Grey's Anatomy Season 6 and a Half
by InTheBetween
Summary: A continuation of where season six left off. Episodes are Cristina and Owen centric with appearances from the other characters.
1. Episode 1: To Build A Home

Author: shli

**To Build a Home**

_How do you start over? Do you pick up the pieces of your life and try to rebuild, or do you start anew with the slate wiped clean? Can it even really be wiped clean? Memories of love and loss, joy and pain are not easily forgotten._

_There's that saying, "It's better to forgive and forget." Total crap. Well, at least the second part. You can forgive and move on, but to forget means that you never learn to change or grow… And life is all about change and growth – not necessarily who we are but our priorities. Isn't that maturity? From wanting a dollhouse to wanting a home. From wanting money to wanting happiness. From wanting moments to wanting a future. _

_So, the question remains: can we really start over? _

The wind combed through Cristina's hair like a phantom caress. The ordeal was finally over. But the consequences of one man's choice to seek so-called "justice" for his wife's death were far from over. Beyond the concrete walls, chaos still reigned. Sections of the hospital were being cordoned off with the harsh yellow plastic of crime scene tape. Bodies of her colleagues were being taken down to the morgue. These were the people who'd passed her in the hallways or handed her a clamp in the OR. These were the people whom she'd gotten into fights with over who was first in line for labs or bribed into switching shifts when she wanted to scrub in on some exciting surgery.

And in spite of the day's events, there were still patients to be cared for. _Life_ went on.

It was all a blur in Cristina's mind: making the first incision, feeling the barrel of the gun against her neck, seeing Owen collapse, hearing Meredith's cry of anguish, breathing when Derek's heart began to beat on its own. It was all still too much to process.

Cristina kept her eyes tightly shut, allowing the emotions she'd shoved aside earlier to well up inside her. They crashed through her system in turbulent waves, but she could feel them lose power with each ebb and flow.

It was this vision that greeted Owen as he let himself into the vent room: black curls dancing and eyes closed. His heart leapt to his throat at the sight of her standing there, partially basking in the dim glow of the overhead lights and partially obscured by the shadow of the revolving fan.

She seemed untouchable, but Owen felt the urge to reach out and make sure she was real. But he resisted – because he refused to intrude upon her serenity. And even more so, he feared he was undeserving of her forgiveness – that was, _if _she forgave him.

Too little, too late. That echo of a doubt kept him from sweeping her into his arms the moment he'd opened the door.

"Hello." He offered it softly so as not to startle her. And for a moment, it didn't seem like she'd heard him. All _he_ could hear over the echoing thumps of the fan was the reverberating tattoo of his heart beating within his chest. The flaps of the jacket he'd donned in lieu of the blanket he'd had earlier fluttered silently with each gust of wind. He barely registered the chill against the exposed flesh of his upper body.

One breath in, one breath out. The tension dripped down her fingertips as she finally opened her eyes. Owen made to utter a word, but Cristina subtly shook her head.

He stopped.

And she started.

With the deceptively delicate persuasion of her fingers, Cristina cupped Owen's neck and guided him towards her awaiting lips. Instant, intense heat exploded between them as though a valve had burst.

All intentions of a gentle reunion flew from Owen's mind as Cristina staked her claim on _her _guy. And he relished in the sense of belonging and absolute certainty that he was hers. He loved how firmly she grasped the lapels of his coat. He loved how her chest was crushed against his. He didn't care that the fabric strained against his dressed wound or that her body caused a dull throb in his shoulder when pressed so roughly against his. He was too preoccupied in holding her just as securely with his good arm and returning her kisses with equal fervor.

Tongues and lips reunited like long-lost lovers. Owen tilted her in his right arm, making her cling tighter, till they nearly resembled that famous black-and-white photograph, "Kissing the War Goodbye." It was a fitting image: a war veteran kissing his girl.

Gratitude. Passion. Anger. Love. Relief. Fear. They were all there.

Then, just as surprisingly as it'd begun, it ended.

Cristina pulled away, recovering her balance. Whether the temporary unsteadiness was from being off-kilter or the kiss, she didn't know. What she _did _know was that she had genuinely needed something like that since Derek's heart had started beating on its own.

But she still needed words. He wasn't going to get away with merely kissing her senseless anymore. They'd gone down that path, and it hadn't led to a happy ending. She needed the words and the explanations this time. Romantic gestures and "I don't know" weren't going to cut it.

Owen watched Cristina right herself in wary anticipation. He couldn't help but feel a sudden, unpleasant sense of loss. He physically missed her – his fingers longed for her raven tresses, his arms ached to be around her waist, his heart yearned to beat near hers.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Cristina finally stated, not unkindly. Though, there was a hint of anger – the kind that stemmed from absolved fear.

Owen was wracked with guilt. "I know, I should've answered you. I should've told you that I loved you. Of course, I love you, Cristina. It's just –"

"Wait, what?" Cristina asked, briefly confused. Upon understanding what he'd been referring to, she shook her head. "No, I'm not talking about that. Though, yes, that was very idiotic. I'm talking about you coming back into the hospital."

Owen gave her a blank look, not comprehending why she would be upset over his decision to come back for her.

Cristina tried again, thinking he needed help jogging his memory. "You left, and then you came back."

"I came back for you. I couldn't leave you, knowing there was some gunman on the loose," Owen responded incredulously. He thought the fact was obvious. The Earth was round. The sky was blue. Owen would never rest till Cristina was safe.

"You could've died! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about you, Cristina!" he said, imploringly, with his voice raised in emotions. With a step forward, he closed the gap between them. "I couldn't lose you. Can't you see that? I couldn't let our last moment together be us breaking up… or me not telling you how I feel. I couldn't live with that… I couldn't – I can't – live without you."

He ended his tirade in barely a whisper as the thought of almost having lost her clamped down on his vocal cords like a vise.

Cristina gingerly laid her head on his shoulder and stroked his back in a soothing pattern. Owen could feel the air-cooled moisture brimming at the corners of his eyes as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, lulled into a more peaceful state with the familiar scent of her natural perfume.

"I'm here," she murmured against the collar of his jacket. Then, when Cristina could feel his breathing slow to a calmer pace, she said, "Come on, let's go home."

Home.

That's what Cristina's apartment felt like to Owen – more than his own place. Most of his stuff had gradually made its way here over time. It had gotten to the point where his apartment had become a glorified storage space. He'd spent the past couple nights there, and he had been miserable. The bed didn't feel right, the shower stall was on the wrong side of the sink, the food in his fridge had long since expired. But most importantly, it was the saddening thought that Cristina wasn't the last thing he saw before he fell asleep and the jarring reality that she was not lying next to him when he woke up. Everything was off. He'd become so accustomed to staying at Cristina's that he felt like a bit of a guest in his own apartment.

Yes, _here _was home – with Cristina. It was as the saying went, "Home is where the heart is." Well, Owen's heart – and home – was with Cristina. And seeing how their home had stayed the same since the last time he was over was a comforting thought, in light of the drastic changes at the hospital that had occurred that day.

"Owen? Are you okay?" Cristina asked, snapping Owen out of his thoughts. She'd already kicked off her shoes and shed her outer garments.

"Yeah," Owen said with a sheepish and assuring grin and started to work on getting his jacket off with some difficulty. Cristina quickly stepped in to help, making sure not to accidentally graze his gunshot wound.

For a second, it looked as though Cristina couldn't decide whether to stay in the living room or go into the bedroom. Although the latter provided more privacy, it was less conducive to conversation and more prone to just the behaviors that Cristina was currently trying to avoid.

The need for privacy – and not having Callie barge in and interrupt – ultimately won.

"Do you want a blanket or something? Or I can help you put on a shirt," Cristina said, walking into her bedroom.

Owen followed her, closing the frosted door behind him. "Actually, I… Cristina, I know you want to talk – and I promise we'll talk, but can I…" Owen's attention caught one of his shirts lying on top of the unmade covers. Military training had long ingrained in him the habit of neatly putting away his clothing, so Owen knew that this wasn't his doing. This subtle proof that she'd missed him, too, melted away some of Owen's nerves. There was still hope – he and Cristina were far from over. The damage done could still be repaired.

"Can you what?" Cristina prodded gently, calling Owen away from his thoughts once again.

"Can I just hold you for a moment longer?" he asked, almost shyly.

Cristina paused in her search through the drawer where Owen kept his shirts and turned to face him. Her gaze softened, and she nodded.

"Hold on."

Owen stopped in his tracks, thinking she'd changed her mind. But fortunately, he was mistaken. Cristina stacked pillows against the headboard then extended her hand towards Owen.

He let her lead him to his usual side of the bed and ease him against the pillows. Cristina took care to support his upper back so that he wouldn't strain his shoulder. Once she was satisfied with him being comfortably settled in, she clambered over his mostly prone body and adjusted her position until she was nestled at his side. Cristina reached down to pull the blankets over them so that it covered most of Owen's chest.

"Better?"

"Thank you."

Silence reigned over them, leaving them to their own ruminations. Owen idly rubbed Cristina arm while she traced invisible loops on his chest with her finger, subconsciously moving in harmony.

"I love you, Cristina."

Cristina's finger stopped three-quarters of the way through the swirl she'd begun. "Are you sure?"

It'd broken Owen to hear the uncertainty in her voice the first time she'd asked, and now was no different. "Yes. I've always been sure… since the moment I met you."

"What about Teddy? I mean, when I asked you earlier, you couldn't answer." Still, Cristina couldn't look Owen in the eye.

Owen took matters into his own hands. He leaned away just enough so that he could look at her directly, patiently waiting for her to raise her gaze to meet his.

"I don't know why I didn't answer you before. I don't have a good excuse. I'm sorry, Cristina. Maybe I… Maybe I was taken aback by the fact that you were asking me if I loved another woman. Or I still didn't know what I feel for Teddy. But I know that I hurt you. And I don't want to be that person – the person who keeps on hurting you. I don't want to hurt you again."

"Owen, you _are _going to hurt me again." Owen's face fell, but Cristina continued. "Just like how I will hurt _you _again. We make mistakes, but we learn from that. That's what _you _taught me."

"But I… I choked you. And I can't promise that something like that won't happen again. I don't know what will trigger me. Especially now that Teddy is here."

"So, Teddy _does _trigger you?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I was telling you the truth, Cristina. Teddy confuses me."

"How?"

Owen paused in thought, knowing that Cristina deserved an answer. Even if he didn't have the answers, he at least needed to try. "Remember when I wasn't sleeping well? There was that patient – Kim. She asked for physician-assisted suicide…"

"I remember…" Cristina let her sentence hang there, allowing Owen to talk at his own pace. She could see how difficult it was for him to think about, let alone discuss, these matters.

After several false starts, Owen eventually began to speak. "When Teddy and I were in Baghdad, we had this friend. His name was Dan… The three of us were really close – our whole platoon was close. That's the way it is out there in the desert. You become another family. Anyway, this was when I was still with Beth, but Dan kept on teasing me about having feelings for Teddy."

He stopped, gauging Cristina's reaction. To his surprise, all he saw was compassion in her dark brown eyes. And in that moment, he loved her more than before – if that were even possible. The words flowed more easily.

"Nothing was going on, but there were some feelings there. I couldn't help it. Beth seemed so far away, and she could never really understand what I was going through in the way that Teddy could. It wasn't until Teddy came to Seattle Grace that I learned that she had feelings, too, and that just dredged up all these memories and emotions from before. Long before I met you, before I'd broken off my engagement with Beth… before my convoy was hit by an IED and Dan died. We were the only ones to survive the explosion, but he was pinned under the vehicle and had an arterial bleed. I couldn't move him, and I didn't have anything to give him for the immense amount of pain that he was in. All I could do was just keep pressure on his wound and wait for help, wait for Teddy who was in the helicopter. We waited for hours, but no one came. He started telling me to let him go, but I couldn't – I couldn't. He had a wife, a family. I couldn't let him go – for them. But he pleaded with me, and I could see that he was in so much pain… So, I let him go. And minutes later, Teddy showed up in the helicopter, but it was too late…"

Cristina reached over to stroke his cheek as Owen relived that horrible memory. She could almost see the heavy burden of guilt weigh upon him. "There was nothing you could do, Owen. I think you know that. It wasn't your fault. You did what Dan asked of you. That counts for something… That counts for everything."

Her words helped, but Owen knew that there would always be a shadow of residual guilt that he would need to learn to accept. "Losing Dan… It changed me. I started pulling away from the people around me. It's why I sent Beth that two-line email. It's why I didn't keep in touch with Teddy after our tour together. I couldn't face myself, let alone the people I cared about. And then… I met you. You made me want to connect again."

Cristina couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I'd say you and I 'connected," she said, vividly remembering Owen turning around and kissing the daylights out of her.

He smiled, recalling the same memory. "Couldn't resist a damsel in distress."

Cristina rolled her eyes. Only Owen could ever get away with calling her that.

"But in reality, _you _saved _me_, Cristina," he said with sincerity.

"You saved yourself," Cristina countered. "You put in the work with Dr. Wyatt, not me. I'm just here for moral support."

"Yes, but _you _made me want to get better. I wanted… I _want _to be a better man for you – and with you. And sometimes… sometimes I wish that I'd met you before – before I was … damaged. Before I— Every now and then, I still feel like the ghost of the man I was before, and you deserve more than a ghost. You don't deserve a man who breaks up with a woman in a short email or can't label his feelings for another woman because she brings up memories of the past. You deserve better."

"Owen, we're all ghosts. We're all damaged. Can't you see that? When are you going to realize that who you are _now _is enough? I didn't fall in love with the man you were before. I love _this _man, I love _you_."

Owen turned to the woman who had stolen his heart the moment he'd laid eyes on her and was filled with gratitude and, more importantly, peace. This was the woman he loved. There had never been a doubt, but the webs of confusion had fallen away. The man he was before – the man that Teddy had known – was gone… And he was okay with that.

"Ask me the question again." Redemption was in order.

"What?"

"The question you asked me before. The one I didn't answer."

"Okay…" Cristina said, hesitantly, not really knowing what Owen was getting at. "Do you love her or do you love me?

"Cristina Yang, I love you. And only you."

"And Teddy?"

"I… care about her – she's my friend. But whatever feelings I had for her in the past are in the past. I think… I think I get confused because when I see her, it's like I'm confronted with my 'before.' And I'm still working on coming to terms with that, with my PTSD. Having her here reminds me of how many more issues I have to grapple with now – how some random, innocuous thing can trigger me. Like the ceiling fan… And how my problems become your problems. I hate burdening you with all that…"

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, my problems can become your problems. And trust me, I've got problems. You don't get 'dark and twisty' without problems," she offered, trying to alleviate his guilt. "My 'mommy' issues trumps all your stuff," she joked.

He laughed. It felt good to laugh. Only Cristina could make him laugh at a time like this. "I'm sure your mother isn't all that bad."

"You only say that because you haven't met her," she insisted. "Your mom is way better. I'll split her with you."

"All right," Owen replied, chuckling.

"I'm not kidding. Why do you think Meredith and I are the 'twisted sisters'? Serious 'mommy' issues. _I _would make a better mother – even _Meredith _would make…" Her voice drifted off.

Meredith. The miscarriage. Now, it was Cristina who was in need of comforting. Owen pulled her close and resumed stroking her arm, whispering softly, "I'm sorry."

"I was going to be a godmother, you know that? I can't imagine what Meredith…"

"Shh… It's okay. Everything will be okay."

Time passed in silence as Owen continued to soothe her, and gradually he began to lose the battle with sleep as the day's events caught up with him.

Cristina could sense the moment Owen succumbed to sleep. And she envied it. Because Cristina was wide awake, thinking about the fact that she _could _imagine what Meredith was going through, having gone through something very similar not long ago.

Only a day had passed since the tragic events at the hospital, but Owen was adamant about going back in to help as much as he could. Though she knew that Owen's injury wasn't too serious, she couldn't keep from worrying. When he winced with discomfort as she helped him put on a shirt for work, she winced with him.

"Are you sure you want to come in to work? You can't even operate," Cristina said for the fourth time since they'd left home. The sky was cloudy, hinting at rain, and there was moisture in the air. Cristina's gray umbrella swung in her free hand, keeping rhythm with her and Owen's matching gait as they walked across the street to work. Her other hand was firmly tucked in Owen's elbow.

"Just because I can't scrub in doesn't mean I can't help out. Plus, now I can finally finish all that paperwork I've been pushing off."

"Okay…" Cristina said, still not entirely convinced.

"I'm fine, Cristina," Owen repeated for the umpteenth time – and meaning it. Leaning over, he kissed her temple in reassurance.

"Fine, but you're putting me on your service today, got it?"

"You're adorable when you're bossy."

"Shut up." But she smiled.

The ER was bustling when the two of them walked in, temporarily oblivious to their surroundings as they shared a tender moment.

Teddy wasn't oblivious, having looked up the moment the automatic sliding doors opened. A faint twinge pulled at her heart, but it faded. Owen had chosen Cristina, and she'd accepted it.

Teddy's eyes glanced as the sling Owen was sporting. Jackson, who she'd been in the middle of giving orders to, had filled her in on what happened in the OR: with Clark walking in on Cristina performing the surgery on Derek and Owen taking a bullet. Teddy was proud of her student – and not the least bit surprised that Cristina had successfully pulled off the repairs. Cristina had been impressing Teddy with her surgical skills since day one.

"Cristina, Owen, I didn't think you two would be coming in today," Teddy remarked, drawing their attention. She resisted the urge to comment on Owen's shoulder. It wasn't her place to fuss over Owen's injury.

"Oh, um… hi, Teddy," Owen replied. He shifted awkwardly where he stood and slid a sidelong glance at Cristina.

Cristina was still smiling. "Yeah, Owen insisted. You know how stubborn he can be."

It continued to amaze Owen how Cristina could just brush past things and act like nothing had happened. Such skill didn't come as naturally to him. Before Teddy could comment on his supposed stubbornness, Owen interjected, "What's the situation?"

"Some parts of the hospital are still closed off, but the biohazard cleaning crew already cleared away the essential areas. The ER is fully functional. Paramedics are sending most of their traumas to Seattle Presbyterian, so things are slower than usual. You've got Torres and Avery down here. And I'm headed back to cardio. Cristina, I believe it's your turn on cardio service today." Next to her, disappointment registered on Jackson's face, but he knew it was true.

"Actually, I think it's the other way around. I'm on trauma today, and Jackson's on cardio."

Jackson turned towards her in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time that Cristina was nice to him, let alone the last time Cristina gave up the chance to be on Teddy's service.

"Oh, okay," Teddy replied, also taken aback. She remembered when Cristina practically begged to be on her service. But she guessed that Cristina's priorities had changed since then. The brief and loaded look Owen and Cristina exchanged confirmed it. "Well, Avery, it looks like you're with me. I'll see you when you're done with my post-ops." Nodding at Cristina and Owen, she left.

"Hey, thanks," Jackson said to Cristina.

"No, thank _you_," Cristina countered, sincerely. If it weren't for Jackson's quick thinking in the OR, Clark would have shot Owen again. She owed Jackson one. Or two.

Cristina's fingers subconsciously tightened their hold on Owen's arm as if to ensure that he was indeed safe. Owen reciprocated by unbending his arm and letting her hand ease its way down to meet his in a subtle and fluid movement.

Reverting to her usual snarky self, Cristina added, "But don't get used to it."

Jackson grinned wordlessly and walked away, wondering if he was finally allowed to call her by her first name.

"That was nice of you," Owen stated once Jackson was gone.

"Yeah, yeah. It was his lucky day," Cristina retorted, sarcastically. "Come on, let's get you changed into scrubs. We've got lives to save."

Several hours later, Owen found himself making his way towards the ICU where Derek was recovering. As he neared his friend's room, Owen saw Meredith heading out.

Seeing Owen, Meredith slowed her pace. "He's sleeping."

"Oh." Owen remained silent. He didn't know what else to say.

Thankfully, Meredith did. "How's Cristina?"

"She's good."

"And the shoulder?" Meredith asked, motioning towards Owen's gunshot wound.

"Fine, thanks. Uh, how's Derek doing?" Owen purposely avoided asking Meredith about herself, not wanting to remind her of the loss of her baby.

"Good, good. Teddy said that she couldn't have done a better job. You just missed her, actually." Meredith gave Owen a wary look, trying to see his reaction to her mention of Teddy.

"That's good… So, I'll just stop by later and look in on Derek when he's awake." He turned to go.

"Owen," Meredith interjected, halting his movement. Without preface, she launched into a speech she'd partially prepared. "I know that I can be…overprotective of Cristina sometimes and that I stick my nose in other people's business. And I know you're a good guy. But I just want what's best for Cristina. She's been through a lot, and I don't want to see her hurt."

"Neither do I—"

"Wait, let me finish… For a long time, it's been just the two of us. Before there was a 'me and Derek,' it was 'me and Cristina.' I can't let go of that. And I don't love you just yet, but I'm definitely starting to like you. Because I see how much you love her. And you need to know that I love her just as much as you do... But I realize that there's a 'you and Cristina.' You're Cristina's guy. I get that now… just as long as _you_ remember that you are Cristina'sguy," Meredith added, pointedly.

Owen raised an eyebrow, signaling his lack of amusement at her dig.

The corners of Meredith's lips curled up. "_Now_, you and I are on the same team."

Owen took Meredith's long-winded speech as her version of an apology. He wasn't surprised – Cristina also faced the same difficulty in apologizing at times.

All of a sudden, Owen's pager went off. He looked down and saw the 911 page. "Sorry, I'm needed in the pit. But I'm glad we had this… talk," Owen said, ironically, considering he didn't do much talking, and made to leave.

"Owen," Meredith called out, causing him to look back. "Thanks for stopping by… and for everything else. I really appreciate it."

Owen simply nodded, but he was smiling inside. Seemed like the two members of Team Cristina were at the beginning of a beautiful… truce.

_We go through life building homes – homes with our partner, our friends, our family, our colleagues. They become our world – a world that alters in size and content over time. And in a blink of an eye, a calamity can shatter this world and turn it upside-down. From chaos comes clarity, from pain comes renewed love. And what once existed fades to dust._

_So, we mourn the loss of what cannot be repaired and rebuild on the foundation that is still there. But, we're faced with a decision: do we build towards what we had before or do we make changes? Because where there is tragedy, there is also opportunity – the opportunity to improve on original plans, to make fortifications. So that next time, things won't fall apart... Next time, there will be less to mourn and less to rebuild._


	2. Episode 2: Love Loss Hope Repeat

Author: hopecrowe

Story: "Love Loss Hope Repeat"

_Life is about cycles. The sleep cycle, the business cycle, the Krebs cycle…almost as if everything is constantly revolving in some predestined path. Sometimes what we see happening is so maddeningly repetitive, it feels impossible to break. How do we have say in anything, if life is all about repetition? It would be a whole lot easier to just go along for the ride and let your life take you where you will inevitably end up._

A few days had passed since the shooting at the hospital and Owen was growing restless without surgery. After another day of only paperwork, he gingerly lay back in bed next to Cristina, who was casually reading a medical journal. After making sure his injured arm was supported he let out a frustrated groan and looked over at her.

"Long day?" she asked, putting down the magazine.

"I became a surgeon to cut, not to _get_ paper cuts…now I know how you felt without your cardio last year."

"Just dying to cut, aren't you?" Cristina shifted further down in bed so she was lying next to him and cupped his cheek with a mix of sympathy and amusement. Owen rarely owned up to his addiction to surgery the way that Cristina so openly did. On the rare occasion he had to face it, it always amused her to see. Owen liked to think he was more balanced than her when it came to surgery. He so wasn't.

"Yeah, and that wasn't even the worst of it. Torres comes out of nowhere and starts chewing my ear off about her and Robbins—whatever problems they're having. As if I haven't had to listen to it _here_ for the past few days anyway." They both paused for a second and listened. In the quiet they could hear the faint sounds of a brewing argument in the next bedroom. Over the past few days they had grown weary of, yet accustomed to, hearing a mix of disagreement and loud sex from the room next door. Owen looked up at Cristina with a pained expression. "I only just left the military. I shove pens in people's throats. I never gossip. Do I look like someone who wants to hear about other people's relationship issues?" Owen turned on his side. "Cristina, I'm losing it. I can't live with _three_ women anymore."

"Hey, they're annoying, but at least Callie cooks. And Arizona makes sure the alcohol is stocked." Cristina shrugged.

"Cristina, I'm trying to say…I think we should reconsider moving in together. I think we need our own space, that it would be good for us. Obviously, I have to ask Wyatt again since we've had some…more recent trauma. But I want you to think about it. Okay?"

"Okay," Cristina said, nodding slowly. She lightly combed her fingers through his hair and Owen closed his eyes. As he savored her gentle touch, she leaned in and gave him a light kiss. "I'll think about it. Sleep…and try not to dream about lesbian love problems."

Cristina walked into the hospital the next morning with a little extra hop in her step. Today was finally the day she would be scrubbing in on the Maze procedure. She had diagnosed the patient about a week ago, before the shooting. It was their gratitude and trust in Cristina that brought the patient and his wife back to Seattle Grace despite the recent headlines.

She strode into the patient's room with an uncharacteristically large smile on her face. Ben Augusta and his wife, Anna, met her with equally large smiles.

"There she is!" Ben said, clapping his hands a few times with Cristina entrance. "The doctor who changed my life."

"Actually we haven't changed it yet, but we'll get to that soon enough," Cristina said, swooping in and grabbing her patient's chart. "Been feeling okay this past week? No sore throats, colds, fevers?"

"Nope, been feeling great. Anna and I have been trying to plan out where our first trip should be." Cristina rarely cared about patients aside from what their organs might look like, but this one was different for her. She took immense pride in having properly diagnosed this patient when all his previous doctors had failed him. She had found an atrial fibrillation where other doctors just saw too much stress and caffeine. This was her patient, start to finish, and it connected her to Ben in a way that both alarmed and excited her. The surgery would be drastically changing his quality of life, and the couple was not shy in showing their appreciation.

"Really, I can't thank you enough," Anna said, her eyes misting up. "This is…like a dream. All these years we thought we couldn't have kids or travel because we were so worried that the stress would aggravate his palpitations…but now all that's changed. Dr. Yang…Thank you."

"Just doing my job…" She shrugged. "I have to prep Mr. Augusta for surgery now, if you wouldn't mind—"

"Oh no, of course…" Anna leaned down and gave Ben a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be in the cafeteria."

After finishing her rounds, as she had the past few days, Meredith walked into Derek's hospital room to check on him. Each time she opened the door to see him resting peacefully, or reading a book, she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. The thought of losing had been all too real. As she walked in and opened his chart to check on his numbers, Derek put his book down on the table and cocked his head slightly to the side, examining her closely.

"Everything looks good. How are you feeling?" she asked, putting his chart back down and crawling next to him in bed for a few moments before having to go back downstairs.

"I'm feeling good. Slowly building strength back up. How are you?" he asked pointedly, taking a hand a brushing her bangs out of her face.

"I told you, I'm fine…we're fine."

"Meredith, are we ever going to actually talk about this?"

"I told you what happened…but beyond that, I…don't really want to talk about it."

"Meredith…" Derek pleaded. She leaned in against him and sighed, trying to compose herself.

"It was an accident, the pregnancy. It was this crazy, out-of-the-blue accident that I never thought I'd want or be excited about but that little time that I knew, I was…happy. I never thought that I would be happy." Derek stroked her back and nodded. "I never thought I'd want to be a mom…but even though it was only a few hours, I loved our baby a lifetime." Meredith's voice cracked. "And it hurts."

"I know," Derek said quietly, his voice unsteady. He kissed Meredith's forehead reassuringly. "But we have each other. That means something."

"That means everything," Meredith said, propping herself on her side to look Derek in the eyes. "_Everything_. Derek, I almost lost you. I thought I _had_ lost you and it almost killed me. It killed our baby." Derek looked up at the ceiling and sighed, a few tears slipping out of his eyes.

"I…I'm sorry. I feel…awful. If I had—"

"If you had what? Managed to stop that bullet from hitting you? I'm—I'm just saying, it made me think."

"We'll come back from this. We'll get through it together." Derek took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

"We will," Meredith agreed, smiling at him. She took a breath and looked at him apprehensively. Opening and closing her mouth several times, she finally spoke again. "Derek…I don't want to wait for another accident to give us a baby." Derek snapped his head to look her, their faces inches apart. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He only smiled and let a few happy tears fall.

Cristina walked into the scrub room to prep for Ben's surgery only to find Lexie there, scrubbing away vigorously at her hands. Cristina paused for a moment and noted with some concern just how roughly Lexie was rubbing at her arms.

"You're scrubbing in on the Maze too?"

"What?" she stammered, looking up in surprise. "Yeah, I'm…I was going to do a hernia repair with Bailey, but they pulled it at the last minute. So since I was already scrubbing in, Altman asked me to be on hand for this just in case you needed extra hands."

"Oh, okay…" Cristina was still eyeing Lexie's hands, but she turned away. There were a few more minutes of silence, and Cristina finished scrubbing in. She was about to walk into the OR, but she stepped back for a moment and looked back at Lexie's hands. "Don't get all weird on me, Three." Lexie let out a strained laugh and nodded.

A few hours later, Cristina finally stepped back and let out a breath of relief. It felt strange operating again after doing so a few days ago with a gun to her neck. But in the end, surgery was surgery and the fact that the human body still reacted the way she had learned was a comfort. Mr. Augusta's surgery took longer than anticipated, as there were a few serious but, not unexpected complications. But Teddy and Cristina made a great surgical team and he looked as though he would be fine after his weeks of rehabilitation. Lexie was now closing under supervision from Teddy, so Cristina glanced up to see Owen sitting in the gallery. His face was turned towards Shadow Shepherd, who was sitting beside him, and motioning animatedly towards the OR table with a grin. He was bragging about Cristina, that much was clear. She hadn't known that he was planning to watch and she felt her heart skip. Their eyes met and he gave her a smile that expressed both pride and love. She smiled back from underneath her mask and turned to leave. Teddy joined her moments later in the scrub room.

"You were great in there…" Teddy praised.

"Thanks, it was exhilarating."

"And you catching that atrial fibrillation in the first place…it's going to change his life. He has a second chance now. He gets to start over, a whole new life." Teddy took an extra deep breath, giving Cristina the impression that Teddy meant something more. "Maybe it will be painful starting out, with all that wasted time but, in the end…you gave him his life back. And no matter what he does now, it can only get better."

Cristina looked at her and nodded. A part of her would always love Teddy for being a great teacher to her and giving her the skills that kept everything together in the chaos of a few days ago, but another part of her would always harbor anger for her interference with Owen. Teddy dried off her hands and left the room. As Cristina dried off, Lexie finally walked in from the OR to scrub out.

"Good work in there."

"Thank you, Dr. Yang." Cristina left the room to find Owen standing in the hallway with a big grin on his face.

"That was amazing," he said, using his good arm to pull her into a kiss. "You're amazing."

"I know. All in a day's work for a Cardio God," Cristina responded, feigning nonchalance. But she promptly broke into a smile while looking up at him. "I didn't know you were coming…I'm glad you did."

"I wanted to surprise you. Plus...since I can't cut, this is the next best thing."

"Now who's the surgery whore? When are you going to learn there are more important things in life than surgery?"

"I'll show you one of those things when you come home later," Owen growled in her ear.

"Are you sure you're up for it? I mean, with your shoulder and all?" Her brow furrowed as she gently touched his healing wound.

"Cristina, we didn't do one-armed push-ups in the army for nothing…" A smile slowly spread across Cristina's face and Owen let out a low chuckle. "See you at home." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked back towards the lobby.

Back in the scrub room, quite a while later, Lexie was still scrubbing out when Jackson Avery walked in. She couldn't help but notice the way the light blue scrubs brought out his eyes. It was a welcome, though brief, respite from the haunting thoughts that had been following her the past few days. Lexie scrubbed and scrubbed, yet still she never felt clean.

"You want to get the germs off, not the skin," he noted, giving her a playful glance that turned serious when she wouldn't look over at him.

"I know that!" she snapped. "I just like to be thorough." She turned off the water and shook her hands. After a long beat, she turned the water back on and kept rinsing. Jackson wrinkled his brow in concern. He slowly took his hand and put it over Lexie's to stop their movement. He turned off her water and looked at her.

"I think you got it all," he said, earnestly. "Things were crazy a few days ago. Maybe you should talk to someone about it…talk out what happened to you or—"

"Nothing!" Lexie cried angrily. "Nothing happened to me. People got shot, people died, Alex was screaming in pain and…nothing happened to _me_. It was my fault anyone got hurt but nothing happened to me."

"It wasn't your fault that Clark just snapped. He was unstable. You had nothing to do with it."

"No. He specifically came for me. And Derek and Webber. He told me. I unplugged his wife. He wanted me, and somehow nothing happened to me." Lexie started crying. "It's like there's blood on my hands that just won't come off."

Jackson stared at her wide-eyed. Then he took a towel and dried off her hands.

"Your hands are clean. Okay? See?" he prompted, bending low to catch her eyes. Her eyes flickered to meet his, and she slowly nodded. "Now, let's get you a drink."

"Mr. Augusta, your transplant went as well as we could've hoped. Given your current condition, it was only natural that we hit a few bumps on the way, but ultimately things went very well." Cristina filled out a few more notes on his chart then unclicked her pen and stuck it back in her pocket with satisfaction.

Ben beamed up at Anna upon hearing the news and gave Cristina a grateful look. Anna gingerly placed her hand on his chest and a few tears of joy dripped down her cheek when she felt a steady thumping. She worded a silent thank you to Cristina, who simply nodded. A few seconds passed and the monitor's beep picked up ever so slightly in pace.

"Is that—is that bad? Are those the palpitations again?" Anna asked, pulling her hand away quickly. Cristina strode over to the monitor but just as she did, it resumed its steady beat.

"There's nothing wrong," Cristina said, giving Ben a knowing look.

"It's because you were touching me," Ben said sheepishly. "And I was thinking about how we can try to have a baby now." Cristina suddenly felt like a voyeur and made for a quick exit.

"Everything looks fine here. Just page a nurse if you feel any abnormal discomfort, particularly in your chest." They nodded and she closed the door behind her.

Cristina strode over to Meredith as she sat in the galley, leaning against the wall with a strange expression on her face.

"I took cardio badassness to a new degree today. I'm awesome." Cristina stated plainly, plopping herself on the gurney next to Meredith. Cristina closed her eyes with a satiated grin.

"You are awesome," Meredith said, smiling at her friend's happiness. There would never be a way for her to express the gratitude she had for what Cristina did in the OR with Derek. No words could express the awe and love she felt for Cristina in sacrificing everything to save someone just because she knew they were so important to Meredith. So much about their friendship was ineffable. Still, this went beyond dancing it out and getting drunk in her bathroom together. Meredith watched her basking in the glow of her latest surgery and felt vicarious pleasure. Cristina eyes soon opened as if waking up from a trance.

"So you paged, what's up?"

"Oh yeah. Well, I only have a few minutes, my patient will be out of CT any second. But I have to tell you—" Meredith grinned so wide it interrupted her. "I needed to tell you that I'm trying again. Well, we're trying again. Well, really _trying_ for the first time. But we're going to try and…and get pregnant again."

"Wow…" Cristina said, a smile spreading across her face. Oddly, she wasn't as surprised as she ought to be. It just felt right. "Well, I'm glad you're ditching the 'thing'. I liked the idea of being a godmother."

Meredith pager went off. She immediately pulled on her white coat and started walking away.

"Good, because sooner or later it's going to happen!" Meredith called back to her as she disappeared around the corner. Cristina sat back against the wall. _Godmother_. The first time she had heard the news, she had had only a short time to think about it before everything had fallen apart, but now she could really think about it, taste it, digest it. She did like the idea…a little kid that would have way-too-pretty hair and probably a high capacity for whining. So maybe the kid wouldn't be so strong genetically, but Cristina could be there to nurture the good little McBaby to overcome that. She didn't much care for the title though, "godmother". Cristina was not big on God, unless it had the word "cardio" preceding it. She'd be much more comfortable with the job if it had nothing to do with God. But that just left…_mother_. Cristina felt something catch in her throat. For a second, the image of a little girl with her hair and Owen's eyes popped in her head. She felt her heart racing at the thought. A few moments later, as her pager went off, she felt a mix of relief and sadness as the image fled.

She peeked down at her pager to see "911". Cristina jumped to her feet and set out for Ben's room at a run.

"911? What happened?" Cristina asked, entering the room just as Teddy called time of death. Cristina's eyes grew wide as she tried to take in the whole scene and process what had happened. The crash cart was packing up, Teddy was hanging her head, and Anna was standing in the corner, covering her face with her hands and violently shaking.

"Blood clot." Teddy said quietly to Cristina, trying not to further upset Anna. "I went over the whole procedure in my head and I know we didn't do anything wrong. It was just unlucky. With his condition, he was prone to them. We knew he wasn't the healthiest guy going in, but it was the best shot he had." Cristina nodded, but found herself staring at the crumpled, sobbing mess that was the patient's widow. Nurse Tyler was walking over to her and helping her into a chair. Anna's silent tears morphed into cries of anguish that reminded Cristina of the sound in her head when she saw Owen fall to the floor after being shot. She suddenly felt nauseous and left the room.

The rest of the day went by both fast and slow. The loss had hit Cristina hard and for once, she just wanted to leave the hospital. After her shift ended, Cristina walked back over to the apartment and threw her keys down on the table. Rolling her eyes at the yelling coming from Callie's room, she kept walking towards her room while taking off her jacket. She found Owen lying in bed watching a soccer game. Throwing her jacket to the side, she strode quickly to the bed. She sat down next to Owen and pulled his face, bringing his lips to hers. Owen was momentarily taken aback, but quickly met her with equal vigor. After a few moments of heated exchange, she pulled away and slid next to him in bed.

"Um, tough day?"

"You could say that…It's been one of those days where even _I_ forget why I love this job."

"What happened to your patient?"

"Lost him…blood clot." It was all Cristina could stomach saying. Anna's wailing still echoed in her ears. Owen sighed and gave her a kiss in the crook of her neck as she slid her side back against his. He just held her for several minutes, slowly rubbing her arm.

"Well aren't you glad you have this to come home to?" Owen asked.

"Awfully full of yourself today, aren't you?"

"Oh, I didn't mean me…I meant that" he clarified, pointing to Callie's room. Cristina groaned as they listened, once again, to an argument next door.

_ "I can't believe this! You said you wanted kids! You said you couldn't live without them or me, now you changed your mind?"_

_ "I just don't think it's right to have a kid when only one parent really wants to be a parent. I know you'll be a great mother, but I won't be and I don't want to be! You said you would be okay with just me and no kids, so who made the decision we would have kids?"_

_ "I can't believe this…here we are, back at square freaking one!"_

_ "And of course it's heartless Arizona's fault because she won't experimentally pop a few kids out and 'see how it goes'"_

_ "Maybe it is—"_

Cristina flopped over and shoved a pillow over her head.

"Oh my god, make them stop!" she groaned, her voice muffled from the pillow.

"Hey, don't look at me," Owen said, flipping through another channel after raising the volume on their television. "I learned a long time ago not to get in between two women who are fighting."

"Okay, seriously. We can't do this. We're adults. We have jobs, we have money…and we'll need more space eventually anyway…you know." Owen turned to her curiously.

"What are you saying, Cristina?"

"I'm saying maybe we should start looking for our own place."

_Are we all slaves to repetition? Benjamin Franklin once said that the definition of insanity was doing the exact same thing and expecting a different result. So maybe the problem is us. We do the same things and expect to miraculously fall out of seemingly endless cycles. But if we make decisions and dedicate ourselves to a different outcome, things can change. We have to fight our way out of destructive cycles. All we can _do_ is fight against them and hope that our outcome changes, that we will end up somewhere new and unexpected… Somewhere happy._


	3. Episode 3: Something To Talk About

Author: angelamermaid

**Something To Talk About**

_Doctors look for the facts. They don't want to deal with 'maybe' or 'possibly'. They want to look at an x-ray or test results, and know exactly what has to be done. They don't want to bring emotions into the process. That's dangerous - by ignoring feelings, they may miss something essential to the diagnosis and solution._

The sound of a door slamming woke Cristina and Owen up at the same time.

"Oh god," Cristina moaned, looking at her clock. "How long is this going to continue?"

"Dunno," Owen mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I'm seeing Dr Wyatt this morning, I'll talk to her about the moving in together."

"Good!"

"And I'm going to see Shadow Shepherd about my shoulder," he added. "Hopefully I can get rid of the sling soon, I'm tired of doing everything with one hand."

"You've been doing fine so far," she grinned, placing a hand on his bare chest. "Last night was – inventive."

"I aim to please," he smiled. He leaned over for a kiss – that was interrupted by pounding on the bedroom door.

Cristina sighed and pulled the blankets up to cover her nudity. "Come in."

Callie entered the room, sniffling. Her eyes widened as she saw the scene before her. "Sorry!"

"What do you want?" Cristina asked as Owen turned a little pink and attempted to pull the blanket higher with his free hand.

"Um – we'll talk later," Callie said decisively, turning and leaving the room.

"You could have let me put a shirt on," Owen grumbled.

"I wanted her to see that there are two other people in the apartment who have lives outside of her drama," Cristina shrugged. "For now, anyways."

* * *

Lexie was reviewing some notes on her clipboard at the nurses' station in Peds when April rushed up.

"Good, I'm not late," April panted. "I stopped by Dr Shepherd's room, he's looking better."

Lexie raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak when Dr Robbins rushed up, with a big happy smile.

"Good morning!" Arizona beamed.

"Good morning," the doctors echoed, Lexie looking at April warily. Arizona briefly wondered what was going on, before she started reviewing the patients they would be visiting on rounds. She was so tired of having the same fight with Callie, that she could have had Yang on her service this morning and not cared at all.

* * *

Cristina entered Owen's office, where he was seated and looking at a piece of paper.

"Hey," he smiled.

"So how did it go? Did we get a green light on moving in?"

Owen shrugged. "We got a yellow light."

"What?"

He sighed and held up the paper. "I have this list –"

"Not the three-word thing again?" Cristina exclaimed. "Owen, I can't do that crap."

"It's not three words," he assured her. "Look – we just need to discuss some topics, to pave the way the way for better communication, clear the air. Dr Wyatt gave me a list of things we should talk about."

"Let me see," she said, impatiently grabbing the paper. "'An Iraq story'. The ambush?"

He shook his head. "Just – any story from Iraq, good or bad."

"There are good stories?"

He half-smiled. "We weren't under fire all of the time."

"Okay." She resumed reading. "'Describe your ideal vacation'. You, me, nude beach in Hawaii. Done. 'Children'? What children? Do you have any kids I don't know about?"

"Not that I know of," he chuckled. "_Our_ children."

"Who said we're having children?"

"This is what we need to talk about," he said. "Do you want to be Callie and Arizona?"

"Hell no." Cristina nibbled her bottom lip. "But we're only talking about moving in. Now you want to talk about children?"

"You said that you don't want kids," Owen said. "I would like to talk about that."

"When did I say that?"

"During that surgery, when Callie was starting to go baby crazy. Teddy asked if you wanted children and you said, 'have you met me?'"

"I did?"

"Yes," Owen said.

"Oh." Cristina felt her panic levels rising – all she wanted to do was move in with Owen, not _talk_.

"I just want to know more about that," he assured her.

"Why do I have to talk?" Cristina said. "You're the one in therapy."

"You're the one that's going to have to live with me," he smiled. "We have to be able to talk about the important stuff, when we're not having all the loud wild sex we can."

She grinned. "We'll be able to do it anywhere, anytime, without an audience. We could do it right now …"

Owen chuckled. "Why don't you want kids?"

"Why don't you want sex?"

"I always want sex," he replied huskily, placing his free hand on her waist. "But I also want to talk about this."

Cristina frowned, then smiled as the timer on his watch went off.

"Time for my appointment with Shadow Shepherd," Owen sighed. "I'm not letting this go."

"Page me after," was all that Cristina said.

* * *

"I like Peds," April said, as she and Lexie left a patient's room together. "Dr Robbins is so nice."

"When she's not changing her mind," Callie said in passing. The two residents stared briefly at her, then shrugged.

"Is there any doctor that you don't like?" Lexie asked as they continued down the hallway.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what I mean," Lexie told her. "You were practically making goo-goo eyes at Dr Robbins. And why were you 'checking up' on my brother-in-law?"

"Because he asked me to stop by," April replied, stunned.

"Sure he did."

April gaped, then quickly looked attentive as Arizona approached them.

"I just got paged," the attending announced. "We have a possible appendectomy coming in. You two can scrub in if you like – if you're sure you want to be surgeons, and aren't just dabbling." She continued walking down the hall.

"What is going on?" April asked Lexie, who shrugged.

* * *

Cristina met Owen in the nearest on call room after he paged her. She sighed to see him sitting on a bed, left arm still incapacitated..

"I thought you were going to lose the sling," she said.

"My shoulder is healing well," he assured her. "I'm cleared to start physical therapy. I'm looking forward to it, the muscles are getting stiff."

"That's good." She paused. "Any – other side effects? Numbness? Shakiness?"

"Nope." He smiled and patted the bed beside him. "I'm not going to bite."

She nodded quietly and sat down beside him.

Owen swallowed. "I want you to know how I feel about having children, before we move in together. And I don't think that my feelings are going to break us up – _relax_."

"Okay," she said, still feeling tense.

"I'm grateful for what we have, that you'll still have me in your life," he said. "If all I can have in the future is you, and just you, I'd die a happy man."

"Oh." Cristina felt surprise and panic. Now he was talking about a lifetime, and all she wanted was to move in together.

"I have to say the rest." He drew in a deep breath. "I've always assumed I would have children. I like kids. One of the things that drew me to Beth was that we had the same goals. Marriage and children. It was easy to imagine having kids with her. It was easy to imagine being a father."

Owen looked down at the floor. "And then everything went to hell. I'm so wrapped up with trying to come to terms with the past that it's hard for me to imagine the future. But somehow I keep dreaming about it. I dream about you and I, growing older together. I dream that there could be a time when we'll have a child together."

He glanced up at her. "I'm not talking about anything in the near future. I'm going to need to go through a lot more therapy before that can happen. I need to face my past and resolve how it's impacting my present, before I can even think about the future. I'm not saying I want to have a baby right now, I'm saying it would be a very bad idea at this time."

"Agreed." Cristina stared straight ahead.

"I'm not going through therapy to be a good father. I'm doing it to be a better man, for myself and for you," he assured her.

"I think you could be a good father," she said honestly.

"I want to be," he said. "I want to be the kind of father that listens to his child, that can speak openly with his kid without being held back by PTSD. I want to play catch with my child and I want to bandage skinned knees and I want to read bedtime stories. I want to be there when our child graduates from medical school, if there is a child."

She stared at him, recalling a vision she'd had recently - of a young girl with her hair and Owen's eyes. The image seemed a little clearer. The girl was now wearing a baseball uniform. Cristina gulped.

Owen sighed. "Most importantly, I want to be able to fall asleep on the couch holding my baby and not ever worry about hurting it."

Cristina closed her eyes, awash with strange emotions of longing and sadness.

"That's what I want," he mumbled, still looking at the floor. "But I have one more thing to say - ."

She looked at him. He held her gaze and continued. "Cristina, you've got great momentum happening in your residency, you're brilliant and you're just starting to achieve your full potential. Making a baby is a decision to be made together, and that's a decision that can be made years from now. I would leave it up to you to decide when the time is right. I would do everything to support you and to take care of a baby, but I would be happy and grateful just to grow old with you."

"Damn it," Cristina whispered.

He looked confused. "Excuse me?"

"You're being mature," she muttered. "Stop it."

He chuckled. "Cristina, I am far from perfect."

"You're closer than you think." She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Your turn," Owen said.

Her eyes flew open. "What do you want _me_ to say?"

"Tell me what you want," he said softly, taking her hand. "I just want to know what you want."

"I want to be a Cardio Goddess," she said.

"What did you want to be when you were a little girl?"

"A Cardio Goddess."

"And?"

"And I want to make out with you," she murmured, lifting up her head to kiss him. "You told me that you want children. You can cross it off of your list now."

He looked at her for a long moment. "We are both supposed to say what we want."

"I just told you," she replied, cupping his face with her hands.

"Do you want children?" Owen asked. "Not now, but in the future?"

She glared at him. "I want to move in with you. That's as far in the future as I want to think about. Now kiss me."

He drew back. "Answer the question, Cristina."

The door flew open . Callie and Arizona stumbled in, kissing each other fervently.

"_Seriously?_" Cristina yelled, catching their attention. "Can't we have _any_ break from you two?" She stood up and made a hasty retreat from the on call room and Owen's questions.

* * *

"He's talking about having kids?" Meredith laughed as Cristina scowled at her. They were seated in the cafeteria, having lunch.

"So not funny," Cristina growled, before taking a bite of her sandwich. "I just want to move in with him and have indiscriminate sex without lesbians in the way. He wants to discuss _feelings_."

"Don't you talk?" Meredith looked concerned. "I mean – you don't have to tell me anything personal, but you've been through a lot with the choking and Teddy and everything. Tell me you talk about something other than surgery."

"We've talked about the choking," Cristina confided. "And now he has to talk to me about Iraq, good or bad. Which is good, because the more he talks about it, the healthier he is. I just don't want to talk about my baggage. And I _like_ to talk about surgery."

Meredith paused. "I'm guessing he doesn't know about your pregnancy history then?"

Cristina snorted. "He didn't even know about the failed wedding until Mark let it slip. I suppose he should know about the ectopic pregnancy. Maybe I can get someone to tell him about it." She looked at Meredith hopefully.

"_No_," her friend said with a smile. "That's your job."

"The things I have to do for indiscriminate sex," Cristina sighed. "I could page Mark, see if he's free to spill some more of my secrets. No wait – he wasn't there. Derek isn't doing anything, he can tell Owen."

"Cristina - what are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid that Owen is a Callie," Cristina admitted. "That babies are a deal-breaker."

"You just told me that he said he'd be happy with just you," her friend pointed out.

"And what if he said that because he thinks that's what I want to hear and he thinks that some magic day, I'll want to have a baby? What is he going to think when he hears what happened before?"

"He's going to therapy for you," Meredith sighed. "I'm not his biggest fan yet, but I can see that he's trying. He took a bullet for you. Talk to him."

"Or! Or! What if knocking me up is a way of keeping me submissive?" Cristina starting to feel panicked again.

"_What_ are you going on about?" Meredith demanded. "Talk to him."

"Talk to who?" They looked up to see Jackson approaching with a tray. Meredith cleared a spot for him as Cristina said, "Nobody."

"Ah." Jackson sat down. "Well, it should be easy to talk to nobody then."

"Excuse us," Cristina said. "We were having a private conversation."

"I was telling you to do the obvious thing," Meredith corrected. "And now we've been joined by our new friend Jackson."

"Perhaps your new friend Jackson can offer a neutral opinion?" Avery smiled.

Cristina took another bite of her sandwich and pointedly said nothing. She was definitely grateful for Avery's actions on the day of the shootings, but he hadn't earned her trust.

Jackson pretended to be hurt. "Fine. Ignore me. Talk as if I weren't here."

"Cristina doesn't want to tell Owen something important from her past because she thinks it will be a deal-breaker," Meredith informed Jackson.

"That's crazy!" Avery exclaimed. "He took a bullet for you!"

"Thank you!" Meredith high-fived Jackson.

"I don't think that will be the deal-breaker," Cristina sighed. Then frowned, thinking about Owen's reaction to assisted suicide. "Do you think it would be? That I wanted to get the you-know-what?"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "He. Got. Shot. For. You."

"As your new friend –" Jackson paused as Cristina raised an amused eyebrow. "I have observed that Dr Hunt cares very deeply for you. I have also observed him _take a bullet_ for you. I have observed him watching you perform the greatest surgery of your career so far with immense pride in your accomplishments. A lot of guys get bent out of shape when their girlfriends get all of the surgical glory. Your Dr Hunt suggested to me that my grandfather, _the_ Harper Avery, would be very interested in hearing about your surgery on Dr Shepherd. Talk to him."

Cristina blinked at Jackson, realizing that he was making sense without being annoying. For once. And she was touched to hear that Owen was taking so much pride in her work. "You may call me Cristina," she told him with a satisfied smile.

He grinned and held up his carton of milk. "Friends?"

The women held up their coffee cups in a toast. "Friends."

* * *

April and Lexie found themselves all alone in the locker room at the end of their shift. Lexie eyed April, wondering if she'd be dropping by Derek's room again.

"You don't have to look at me like that," April said defiantly. "You will never have to worry about how I look at Dr Shepherd again."

"Really?" Lexie snorted.

"Really," the other woman replied. "Meredith miscarried in front of me, Lexie. Things are different."

Lexie turned white. "She – did? I thought that was something that happened in private."

April shook her head. "She started to miscarry while we were treating Dr Hunt. He told her to stop working on him, so she could have some privacy and I could treat him. But she wouldn't. She said _she_ had to take care of Cristina's guy. So she bled and bled while she treated his wound."

Lexie's eyes filled with tears.

April continued. "After Dr Hunt was taken care of, he insisted that she let me examine her and make sure there were no complications. He turned his back and faced the wall and didn't look. He wanted to go be with Dr Yang but he stayed to make sure Meredith was okay. She wasn't alone, but we did as much for her that she would allow."

"_Thank you_ for taking care of her," Lexie whispered.

"We are friends now. I dropped by Dr Shepherd's room to see him and Meredith at their request." April looked at Lexie evenly. "So you don't have to play watchdog on me any more."

"Okay."

The two women looked at each other.

"Want to go to Joe's and drink some beer?" Lexie offered shyly.

"I'd love to," April beamed.

* * *

"Good news," Cristina announced as she met Owen outside of the hospital. "Callie is going to Arizona's place tonight."

He just smiled and kissed her in greeting.

"You – do want to come home with me tonight?" Cristina asked.

"_Yes_," he said. "Of course."

"Good."

* * *

Owen winced as Cristina helped him remove his jacket at her apartment. "It's getting really stiff," he groaned.

"That's what she said," she quipped, earning a delighted grin from Owen.

"I think you should get into a nice hot bath," she decided, guiding him to her bathroom. "Relax that shoulder. Your wound has closed now, you can soak all you want."

"Do you have Epsom salts?" Owen asked, as he let himself be led along.

"No. But I have that vanilla sandalwood stuff you like."

"Good," he grinned. "I don't want to smell – pretty."

She chuckled as she turned on the faucets in her bathtub. Then she helped him undress.

"I'm waiting to hear what you want," he reminded her, as she helped him settle into the scented bubbly bathwater.

"I'm going to tell you," she informed him. "After you relax that shoulder."

Owen smiled and nodded, satisfied. Then he grinned as she started to undress herself. He settled back into the tub to watch her disrobe.

"We should talk about what we want for our place," she said as she wriggled out of her underwear. "Like a bathtub that's bigger than this one."

"I don't know about that," Owen said, using his good arm to support her while she carefully stepped in, on top of him. "It's not so bad that this one doesn't have a lot of room."

"There are advantages," she admitted with a devious smile, facing him as she settled onto his lap. "How is your arm?"

"Feels okay," he sighed, sliding down a bit to accommodate her.

"Now relax," she murmured, before kissing him. She carefully wrapped her arms around his neck, avoiding his left shoulder, as their tongues danced and mated. His hands gripped her waist, before moving down to squeeze her buttocks.

"Raise up a bit," he whispered. As she complied, he took a breast into his mouth, his teeth and tongue stimulating her aching nipple. His right hand reached down to start caressing her, gently inserting one, then two, fingers inside her.

Cristina moaned happily, running her fingers through his wet hair. His fingers found that sweet spot inside, causing her to clench and buck.. She could feel him grin against her breast and she kissed the top of his head.

Slowly, he teased her to the brink of bliss, his mouth moving back and forth between her breasts. Cristina mourned the loss of his talented fingers when he withdrew them, even as she raised herself to help him guide his rock-hard cock inside her sacred place. With soft gasps and sighs, they moved together to find a steady rhythm, his fingers sliding down again to stimulate her. It didn't take long for her to shatter, collapsing against him with quivering legs, as he moved his hips to drive up into her, harder. His fingers continued to work her while his mouth was everywhere, and she fell apart again as he finally climaxed, arching up and spurting deep within.

Panting, she moved so she was sitting sideways on his legs, leaning against his right shoulder. He gently kissed her forehead as she idly traced circles in the water on his chest, slowly returning to reality.

"When I -" she started, then paused, to gather her thoughts. "When I first started with Burke – it wasn't really dating, it was more like a fling."

Owen held his breath, ready to hear what Cristina had to tell him.

"And then he broke up with me, to focus on his career. He was gunning for the Chief's position, he couldn't fool around with an intern anymore."

"What?" Owen scowled. "What kind of a jerk does stuff like that?"

"Please," Cristina said. "_I_ tried to trade you in the name of my career. It's okay."

Owen sighed. "Carry on."

"So – since he had broken up with me, I saw no reason to tell him that I was pregnant and wasn't keeping it."

Owen's eyes widened at hearing that she'd been pregnant before – something he hadn't considered – but he said nothing, letting her talk.

"I did not want to have the baby. The timing was all wrong and I didn't want the responsibility. So I scheduled an abortion. Before my appointment, I passed out because it turned out to be an ectopic pregnancy. I lost the baby and a fallopian tube."

Owen's hand gently took one of hers, noting how her voice was a little shaky.

"I never wanted to have kids. I did not want to be pregnant. But the way that the pregnancy ended - I was not happy. It was a terrible thing."

She looked at him then, fearing judgement and hoping for acceptance. His eyes were calm.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," he said quietly.

"You're - not mad?"

He frowned. "About what? That you weren't a virgin when we met? Neither was I."

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "That I didn't want to keep it."

He gripped her hand. "Cristina, that was your choice. I'm for choices."

She looked at him again. "But when Teddy's patient - Kim - chose assisted suicide, you were against that."

He looked down. "_That_ - was about Iraq. It was about Dan."

She looked sorrowful. "Dan who made you let go?"

"Yes. I've been talking about that with Dr Wyatt, trying to sort everything out, seeing the difference between Dan's choice and Kim's choice. I have a lot of issues, but not with a woman's right to choose. I performed a few of those procedures in Iraq, you know."

"I did not know that."

He nodded. "That's the problem. I don't tell you anything about what happened there."

"Tell me something, Owen. Anything."

"I can't start the conversation. The words won't come out."

"Oh, and _my_ history is easy to discuss? I almost asked Derek to tell you about my past pregnancy, since Meredith wouldn't." Cristina moved herself so that her back was against his chest, leaning her head on his right shoulder. "Take your time."

"I'm frustrated," he mumbled, sliding his good arm around her waist. "I hate that I can't say everything that I need to say."

They sat there in silence for a few moments.

Cristina drew in a deep breath. "The next time I get pregnant, if there is a next time, it will be when _we_ say the time is right."

Owen felt a lightness within his chest. "So – _maybe_ there will be a next time?"

"Maybe," she said candidly. "I – see it as a possibility. I liked what you said about the father you want to be. And together we could produce the greatest surgeon ever. Besides me. But not now. Right now having a baby is scary and not something that I want."

"I don't want a baby right now either," he assured her, feeling ridiculously happy.

"Have we talked enough about this?"

Owen chuckled and kissed her cheek. "_Yes_. We can cross it off of my list. Thank you."

"Tell me something about Iraq. Tell me what kinds of cases you had that weren't trauma," she suggested.

"Well, that's where I learned how to fix a broken penis."

"Really? You know how to do that?"

"Yes. Sex was one way the troops relieved their tension. This one guy ..."

_Surgeons don't want to hear how a patient is feeling emotionally. They prefer the physical symptoms. But sometimes, what is hidden deep inside is the very thing that needs to be exposed, to bring about healing and wholeness._


	4. Episode 4: Defying Gravity

Author: lovemesomeowen

**Defying Gravity**

_People think it's the big events that dominate their lives: graduation, first job, marriage, children. But they're mistaken. Our lives and destinies are shaped by the cumulative effect of thousands, maybe millions, of tiny moments and decisions. And the real irony is that when we're actually making the decisions, we often have no idea of the repercussions that will result. Thus, a redirected ambulance, a falling icicle, and an impulsive kiss have the power to change two lives forever. What happens after that is a combination of free will and fate, as purposeful choice and gut instinct collide…_

It was the middle of the night and Owen was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He glanced at the clock. 3:44 a.m. Only seven minutes later than the last time he had checked. He tried to breathe deeply and relax, but that only seemed to stimulate him more. He couldn't quiet his mind. It was racing in a thousand different directions.

It had been a long time since Owen had been plagued by insomnia. Ever since his return to therapy the early morning waking had pretty-much vanished. Today was an exception to that rule, but then, today was an exceptional day. Today he and Cristina were moving in together. "Me, you, our own place" was about to become a reality and Owen was so excited that he couldn't sleep. The anticipation filled him with happiness. He and Cristina were making a start, making a home of their own.

Cristina. Owen rolled over and looked at her. She was so beautiful when she slept. There was a softness to her features that she rarely revealed in her waking moments…a vulnerability. Owen studied her carefully…her hair, her face, her body…that neck. He wanted to kiss it… to touch her…to love her.

Enough of that, he silently chided himself. Looking at her body like that wasn't going to help him sleep. Telling himself to pull it together, he decided to get up and move to the living room. Maybe some toast and juice would help. He began to slide quietly out of the bed only to stop when he felt a hand on his wrist. He turned around to see Cristina looking up at him sleepily.

"Are you OK?" she asked in a concerned voice.

"I'm fine," he whispered back. "Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."

"Stay with me," she said, pulling him towards her and pressing her lips to his.

That was all it took. Owen felt his body respond instantaneously to her touch. Her kisses were intoxicating. He wanted her. Now. Within moments they were both lost in a tangle of mouths and limbs, hands everywhere, making love with an urgency that revealed both the deep desire and the aching, primal need they had for each other.

Afterwards, Owen pulled Cristina to him, until they were tightly spooned together. His arm snaked over her body, his hand cupping her breasts, his face nestled by her neck. She settled back into him, her tiny hand covering his massive one.

"Love you," she murmured, yawning.

"Love you, too," he replied as he drifted off to sleep. _

The alarm went off at 6 a.m. Cristina gave Owen a quick kiss and then started to get up.

"Why the hurry?" he said groggily, holding her closer.

"Everyone will be here by 7:30," she answered. "We've got a lot to do."

"How can we possibly have much to do? We're moving two floors down."

Cristina furrowed her brow. "You're not disappointed, are you?"

"What?" Owen forced himself awake. "Why would I be disappointed?"

"That we're only moving two floors. I don't know," she sighed. "It's nothing. Stupid. Nothing. It's just that Evil Spawn was yanking my chain, mocking me about us moving within the building…"

"Said the man who is still living with Meredith and Derek…"

"He's recovering!" Cristina protested. "And Izzie left. He'll find his own place."

Owen shook his head in amusement. "You do realize you're like siblings? You're allowed to criticize each other but heaven help anyone else who does it."

"Whatever. I just don't want you to be disappointed, that's all."

"Cristina," he said. "The last thing I am is disappointed. We're moving in together today…just you and me in our own place. I really couldn't care less about the rest. I just want to be with you."

"I know, right? I mean, the proximity to the hospital is so good. And while we won't actually be living with Callie and Arizona anymore, we'll still be close enough to mooch dinner." She was on her feet now, gesturing broadly. "You laugh now, but trust me. The novelty is going to wear off and it will no longer be charming that I can't cook to save my life. Besides it's only temporary."

"What?" he said for the second time that morning. He could barely think. "Cristina…"

"I just mean that we're not going to live in this building forever, right?" she went on, trying to sound casual. She hesitated, realizing how this sounded. "I don't know…"

Owen managed to maintain a neutral expression, trying to contain the smile forming on his lips. "I agree. Plus, we may even need to relocate, at least temporarily. Who knows where your fellowship will be?"

"That's true! I hadn't even gotten that far yet. You'd really give up your job?"

"Of course I would! I can find a job anywhere. Your fellowship needs to be our priority, but we're ahead of ourselves. Here's my point. My home is with you now. Home is where you and I are together. We'll work out the rest. Just take it one step at a time, OK? Now come here," he said, pulling her on to his lap.

"What has gotten into you?" she said, laughing. "People will be here in a little more than an hour!" He was kissing her neck again.

"I just think we should say a proper goodbye to this bedroom, that's all…" he said.

"Like we said goodbye to the kitchen and the living room and the hallway?" she smirked. "And what, exactly, do you call what we were doing last night?"

"That was quick and dirty," he explained, moving his mouth lower. "I want to take my time with you…"

"We. Have. No. Time." she protested.

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Fine," she said, exasperated. "How about we say goodbye to the shower? We wouldn't want to hurt its feelings."

Owen grinned wickedly, "That's the spirit!" _

Cristina emerged from the bedroom first. Callie was ready with breakfast. "Scrambled eggs, cinnamon toast, crispy bacon…"

Cristina grabbed the plate and slid onto the bar stool. "I love breakfast. Is it too late to reconsider moving?"

"Don't go there," said Meredith. She was on the couch next to Alex. "You're moving."

"I know," Cristina replied, "but we're going to starve. You can only stand take-out for so long. Quick, I need caffeine." She took a sip from the cup Callie gave her.

"I told you. You can come over any time you want to eat," Callie said. "Seriously."

"I know how to cook," said Owen, walking over to the counter. "We won't starve."

Callie handed Owen a bowl of oatmeal. "Toast will be ready in a minute…"

"Thanks, Torres. Meredith. Karev." They smiled at him in unison.

"So who else do you have coming over to help today?" Meredith asked Cristina.

"Other than McDreamy…not that he'll be any use…Mark, Jackson, Steve and Ryan."

"You actually learned their names," Meredith marveled, a twinkle in her eye.

"I know. Pity, really," Cristina snarked, "But they did agree to do manual labor. It seemed the polite thing to do."

"So, basically, Owen made you."

"Fine. Owen made me," Cristina admitted reluctantly.

"They're not even your interns anymore," said Owen, an amused look on his face, "And they're still scared of you."

"I am not scary!" she said forcefully, glaring at him.

"How'd you manage to get everyone the time off simultaneously, anyway?" asked Owen, changing the subject. "That's pretty much a miracle"

"The Chief of Surgery owes me a few favors," Cristina said pointedly. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Stopped off to get Mark," said Meredith. "They should be right along."

Moments later, as if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Derek and Mark entered the apartment, followed closely by Jackson, Steve, and Ryan.

"Good Morning," said Derek, stepping into the room.

Mark looked bleary-eyed. "Callie, can I get some coffee? I'm begging."

"Good Morning, Cristina!" said Jackson, cheerfully.

Cristina rolled her eyes. Jackson caught sight of Owen. "Dr. Hunt…"

"Avery. Thanks for the help, everyone. We appreciate it. OK…so here's the plan. Cristina and Meredith are in charge of moving everything from this apartment to the new one. Karev, we thought that you could sit in the new place, so that we can keep it open."

Alex nodded his agreement.

Owen continued, "Sloan, Avery, Mostow, Spaulding…you'll start here and then drive over to my place when you're done. Shepherd and I will head over there now to get everything squared away. Back here for pizza when we're all done."

"Where do we start?" asked Mark.

"Bedroom," answered Cristina. "I'll be right there to supervise."

Sloan and Company headed for the bedroom as Owen grabbed his keys from a basket on the counter. Turning to go, he saw Cristina close her eyes, take a deep breath and then exhale slowly before following them.

"What was that all about?" asked Alex, voicing Owen's thoughts.

"Just leaning into the fear," said Meredith matter-of-factly. "She's fine."

Alex shrugged and stood up carefully. "You wanna let me in the new apartment on your way out?"

"Sure," said Owen, holding the door for Derek and Alex. "Let's go."

"See you later," said Derek, giving Meredith a peck on the lips.

After they'd gone, Meredith and Callie exchanged a meaningful glance.

"She's fine," insisted Meredith.

"If you say so," replied Callie.

Derek and Owen rode in silence to Owen's apartment. Owen was driving, lost in his thoughts. Derek considered whether or not to mention the elephant in the room.

He finally decided to go for it. "Stop obsessing," he said.

"Sorry?" Owen asked. "I wasn't listening."

"Stop obsessing," Derek repeated. "About what Meredith said. My advice? Let it go."

Owen gave a heavy sigh. "What the hell does that even _mean _anyway? Cristina's leaning into the fear?" He gave Derek a sideways glance.

Derek chuckled. "It's a Twisted Sisters thing. I'm telling you, let it go. She's fine."

"I thought she was fine," Owen said, running a hand through his hair. "We've been doing really well. We've been excited about this move. At least I thought we were. Sometimes I just don't understand her. I love her, but sometimes I don't have a clue about how she thinks. Do you understand Meredith?"

"More than I used to," Derek answered. "But it's been a long time coming."

"Really?" Owen asked, curious. "You've always seemed happy to me."

"We are now but, remember, you missed the dark and twisty years. You've only been around to see us all shiny and happy. It wasn't like that in the beginning. Well, actually, it was like that in the _very _beginning. Meredith and I met, we fell in love, and everything was pretty great…until my wife showed up."

Owen looked aghast, but said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road.

Derek continued, "Yeah, I neglected to mention to Meredith that I was married. Separated, but married. She found out when Addison showed up at the hospital one night. It wasn't good. Then, just to make things even worse, I was confused about what I should do. I felt like I needed to try to make the marriage work."

"Wait," Owen interrupted. "You went back to Addison?"

"I did," Derek said. "It seems so ridiculous now, but I felt like I had to give the marriage one last shot. It didn't work, of course, because I love Meredith. I've always loved Meredith. But at that time I chose Addison and when I did, I broke Meredith. I broke us. And it took a long time to put us back together. Look, I don't know the particulars with you and Cristina and I don't need to know. I'm just saying …don't make your life harder than it needs to be. You obviously love each other. Don't borrow trouble. Things will be fine. Let it go."

"I'm trying," Owen said, pulling the truck into the parking lot. "Come on."

As they approached the building, it suddenly occurred to Derek that despite knowing Owen for almost two years, he'd never set foot in his apartment. They stepped into the entryway and headed for the elevator, taking it to the seventh floor, unit C. Owen unlocked the door and they walked in together. It was a studio apartment, small but tidy, with boxes stacked neatly, ready to be moved. A screen separated the "bedroom" from the living and kitchen areas.

"Nice place," Derek commented. "Is the furniture yours?"

"Just a few pieces," Owen replied. "When I got back from Iraq I really wasn't in any shape to be dealing with any of that, so I just rented this place already furnished."

Derek's mind flashed briefly to Owen's first day at Seattle Grace. In retrospect it was a wonder Owen had even been able to get up in the morning, let alone run a trauma department. Derek winced inwardly as he remembered how he and Mark had treated Owen that day. It was strange to think of it now. Owen was one of his closest friends.

Derek realized with a start that Owen was still talking, "…and, really, it was getting ridiculous keeping this place. I've pretty much been living with Cristina for months anyway." He still seemed troubled and preoccupied.

Focusing his attention fully on the present moment, Derek spoke. "You know, Cristina and I haven't always gotten along. But I've always respected her. Always. As a surgeon and as a friend to Meredith. She is a good person to have in your corner and I've grown to be grateful that Meredith has her."

He paused and then continued, "I've had a lot of time to think lately and you know what? I think Cristina Yang may just be one of the bravest people I've ever met. Think of it this way, Owen. You're miffed because Cristina's leaning into the fear of moving in with you. But the last time she moved in with a man it eventually led to her being left at the altar. I'm impressed she's willing to do it at all, but she's doing it. And she's doing it because she loves you."

Owen looked up at him with a mixture of comprehension and gratitude. "I am an ass," he said, shaking his head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, now what do we have to do before the others get here?"

"Not much," Owen replied. "Neither of us is supposed to be lifting anything anyway."

Cristina walked out of the empty bedroom and into the living room, sitting down on a bar stool. Callie was stacking pizza boxes on the counter. Gesturing towards the spot where the couch used to be, Cristina said, "Sorry about that."

Callie shrugged. "I've asked Arizona to move in with me. If she does, she'll be bringing some furniture."

"And if she doesn't?" Cristina asked.

"Then I'll need to go shopping," Callie replied. She slid onto the stool next to Cristina. "I'm sorry if we drove you out. It's just endless drama between us lately."

"It wasn't that," Cristina said quickly. Noting the wry expression on Callie's face, she added, "OK, maybe it was a little bit that. But mostly it's just time for Owen and me to move on, you know? Take the next step. You just sped up the process a bit."

Callie smiled. "So you feel good about this?"

"I do," Cristina answered. "It doesn't even feel strange. It feels …right."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm not surprised, though. You and Owen are good together. And you've certainly been through enough. But you always come out the other side."

"We do," Cristina agreed. "PTSD, all the crap with Teddy…"

"What was that about anyway?" Callie asked. "Because I've got to say, I never saw anything between Owen and Teddy and, believe me, I was looking."

Cristina perked up and said with interest, "No? So what did you see?"

"I saw Teddy in love with Owen and Owen in love with you and him trying to figure out how to keep Teddy as your teacher and his friend, all without having a PTSD relapse. Poor guy. What was he _thinking_ bringing her here? Men can be so dense sometimes. But, anyway, Owen doesn't have romantic feelings for Teddy. There's just no way. It's pretty cute, actually. That man absolutely adores you."

"Thank you! I know I can be a little emotionally clueless sometimes, but I really didn't think I'd missed something that important. Meredith was so convinced…"

"Meredith just wants what's best for you," Callie said firmly. "But it doesn't mean she's always right. It's all worked out now anyway. Just keep moving forward."

"It's weird, isn't it?" asked Cristina. "When you and I started out you were getting over George and I was getting over Burke and now you're with Arizona and I'm with Owen."

"It's been an adventure," Callie said. "I'll give you that. Life with you is never dull. I'm going to miss you."

Cristina turned and looked at Callie. "Thanks for everything…you're a good friend."

"So are you," Callie responded. "And anyone who says differently doesn't know you."

Cristina looked at her warily. "You're not going to cry are you? Don't make me regret saying you're my friend, Torres. I don't do mushy."

"I am well aware of that," Callie said, giggling.

Cristina paused and then said, "I think I'm going to hug you now."

"Do I get to hug you back?" Callie asked.

"Yes, but keep yourself together. I have a reputation to protect," Cristina said, leaning over and putting her arm around Callie's shoulders.

"I promise," Callie replied, giving her a squeeze. "Hey, I'm meeting Arizona at Joe's tonight after her shift. You and Owen are welcome to join us."

"I'll see what Owen wants to do," Cristina said, "But don't count on us. We may want to just settle in to the new place."

"You mean christen the new place," said Callie with a laugh. "I know what you're up to, Cristina Yang. You're not fooling anyone."

Cristina grinned as she got up to leave. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Cristina walked into the new apartment to see Owen flat on the floor setting up the television. She plopped down on the couch.

"Hey!" he said, turning his head to look at her. "All set upstairs?"

"All set. And it's only three o'clock," she boasted.

Owen stood up and surveyed his work. "I think that should do it. Where's the remote?"

"And so it begins," Cristina said. "What's with men and the remote, anyway?"

"I want to watch the Mariners later," he replied, smiling. "Get used to it."

"Duly noted." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "I could sleep right now. I mean it."

"Fine by me," Owen said. "Just let me check this and we'll go and take a nap. The game's not on until seven anyway. We have plenty of time."

Cristina snickered.

"What did I say?" Owen asked, puzzled.

"It's nothing," Cristina said. "Callie may have said something about us christening the new place…"

Owen sat down beside her and gave her a weary look. "Not that I'd normally refuse such an invitation, but I am really tired…maybe after the nap." He closed his eyes with a sigh.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, then Cristina said, "So when are you going to ask me? I know you're dying to…"

"Ask you what?" he said, only half-awake.

"About leaning into the fear…"

He was immediately alert. He turned and looked at her. "Where did that come from?"

"Oh, come on," she said. "I told you, I can be insensitive, but I'm not oblivious and I'm not deaf either. I heard all of you earlier today. I know you have questions, so ask."

"Shepherd told me to forget it…"

"And I'm telling you it's ok to ask. What do you want to know?"

"I guess I'm just wondering …if I knew what you were afraid of, maybe I could help…"

Cristina shook her head. "And there it is. Full-blown Savior Complex."

"You told me to ask. I'm asking."

Cristina considered her words carefully. "Dr. Wyatt thinks I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." She waited for his reaction.

"Dr. Wyatt?" he asked, incredulously. "You've been seeing Dr. Wyatt? On purpose?"

"I thought you'd be pleased," Cristina said, a bit perturbed.

"I think it's great, but I'm shocked. I never thought I'd see the day. How long has this been going on? And when were you going to tell me about it?"

"I'm telling you now," she said defensively. "It's been several weeks, actually. I had that mandatory session. You know, post-shooting spree. She cleared me for work but suggested that I might want to keep coming for awhile. I decided it might not be the worst idea ever."

"Any particular reason?" he asked.

Cristina gave him a perplexed look. "Other than the gun to my head, you getting shot and the fact that we both could have died that day? And that's just us personally."

"OK, I obviously didn't say that well. Of course those are more than enough reasons to see Dr. Wyatt. I'm just wondering if anything else is going on not related to that day."

"We're figuring that out," she answered truthfully. "Dr. Wyatt thinks I have a 'deeply-rooted fear of abandonment that manifests itself in control issues.' Whatever."

"OK…" Owen said. "Go on."

"Well, she says that sometimes my need for control is a good thing. Like me recognizing my anxiety after the shootings and being able to accept her offer. I mean, I've seen first-hand what PTSD can do. I don't want that. And Lexipedia's just been…weird. It's creepy. And I don't want that either. So I took a proactive step and I'm seeing Dr. Wyatt. It's not as bad as I though it would be," she admitted. "I don't hate it."

Owen gave her a knowing smile. "And when is the need for control a bad thing?"

"Oh, you know," she said airily, not looking at him. "Like when I tried to trade my boyfriend away or when I broke up with him because he couldn't answer my questions…that sort of thing." Owen reached out and grabbed her hand.

Cristina continued, staring across the room, "She thinks I was trying to gain control of the situation…to leave you before you could leave me. She thinks that part of me expects that eventually you will leave me. My father died. Burke left. And you'll leave, too."

"And what do _you_ think?" Owen asked, gently.

Cristina hesitated. "I don't know."

"Cristina," Owen said, his voice full of reassurance, "I can't promise not to die, but I have no intention of leaving you. Not now. Not ever. You're stuck with me."

"And I know you think you mean that. I do. It's just…. Burke had no intention of leaving either. But he did. This is really more about me than about you, anyway."

"How so?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I can't control you. Only me. So I'm leaning into the fear. That's the best I can do right now, OK?"

"OK." He paused and then added, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Can we take a nap now?" she said, getting up. "Oh! I forgot to tell you. Callie invited us to Joe's tonight, but I said I'd have to talk to you first. Truthfully, I'd rather stay here. We can watch the baseball game." She winked at him.

"You'd really watch the game with me? It's not cardiothoracic surgery videos…"

She threw a pillow at him. "I don't promise to give it my full attention. But it's baseball. How hard could it be to figure out? If you don't mind if I'm reading medical journals, I will watch the game with you."

"Done," he said, rising to his feet with a satisfied smile. "Now let's go and get that nap and maybe we can christen the apartment after all. I suspect that we'll feel very refreshed after we've rested. I don't suppose there are any sheets on the bed?"

"Umm…that would be no," Cristina said. "But I think I know where they are. A shower would feel nice, too. I'm grimy. Come on…you get the sheets. I'll get the towels."

_Someone once said that it's the little moments that make up a lifetime of happiness. So many decisions: some big, some little, some that seemed big but were really nothing, others that seemed like nothing but were monumental. As for making those decisions, sometimes everything is very neat and organized and rational as your brain does its job. But other times you just have to go with your gut…that chaotic, irrational creature, as your heart gets the upper hand. And sometimes? Sometimes you just have to close your eyes…and leap._


	5. Episode 5: Love's Subtle Scheme

Author: JenniFromtheBlock

**Love's Subtle Scheme**

_There are moments that mark a major shift in our lives where in a split second, everything can change. A failed wedding, a bus accident, an RPG ambush, a man with a gun—each of these can draw a clear line of demarcation defining a transformation. But there are also quiet, gradual changes in our beliefs and behaviors that occur slowly over time without us even realizing, and these can have an equal, if not even more significant effect on who we are and how we want our lives to be. _

"To your first week back," Owen said, clinking his glass of scotch against Derek's and Mark's before each took a thirsty sip. He swallowed, savoring the rough burn of the alcohol, his first in quite a while. He hadn't drunk so much as a single beer while on meds during his recovery at home.

"I don't know if I would call it a real week," Derek said. "Still no surgery, just paperwork. Piles and piles of it. All I do is read forms, fill out forms, request forms, submit more forms. I think maybe I'd rather be home watching ESPN after all." He hadn't been cleared to scrub in yet, and was anxious to get back to operating. He never realized how much he would have missed surgery until it had been denied him. Now he was itching to get a scalpel back in his hand.

"Enough shop talk," Mark complained. "When you're on bed rest at home, all you do is whine about getting back to the hospital. Now you're there and you're still whining."

"He's right," Owen seconded. "You're whining."

"You've been cleared for surgery. I don't want to hear from you," Derek replied. Owen toasted him and took another drink. "Good news for you though," he continued. "Your room in my house just got bigger."

Owen frowned in confusion. "I have a room in your house?"

"Hunt has a room in your house?" Mark exclaimed. "Why does Hunt have a room in your house?"

"Cristina has a room in my house, which basically means Owen has a room. Meredith keeps changing her mind and adding square footage to the plans and making the rooms larger. It wouldn't bother me so much if it weren't for the fact that Karev also has a room. And Lexie has a room. And we have rooms for the kids whenever we have them. It was all I could do to convince her not to build a room for Stevens in case she comes back, too." He took a drink. "I didn't know I was going to be building the Real World house when I bought my little piece of land in the woods."

"What about me? I want a room," Mark demanded.

"I'll build a second floor on the doghouse."

"Ingrate." Mark put his hand up to get Joe's attention at the bar. He waved his finger at the three glasses, and Joe nodded in response.

"What about you and Cristina? How's the new apartment?" Derek asked, ignoring Mark's feigned sulking across the table.

Owen smiled, and Derek noted the subtle way Owen always cheered up at the thought of Cristina. He remembered back to when he first found out Owen and Cristina were together, and had thought they were an odd combination, but now that he knew them both better, he completely got it.

"It's great. I mean it's more or less the same place we were in before, minus Torres and Robbins arguing all the time. Maybe a little too convenient, what with Cristina showing up at all hours of her shift to check on me while I was home recuperating. But it was the right move. We were pretty much living together before, but somehow, this feels different. It feels right." He chuckled. "And quiet. I didn't realize how much I missed a little peace and quiet when I got home from the hospital. I don't know what got into my head, living with three women. One woman—that's fantastic. Three women?" He shook his head. "What was I thinking?"

Mark gave the waitress a leer and a wink as she exchanged their empty glasses with full replacements. She grinned and he watched her gracefully retreat to the bar, where he noticed Callie perched on a barstool, frowning into her glass.

"Well, don't be surprised if Torres shows up on your doorstep one of these days," Mark said. "She crashed on my couch twice this week. I envy your peace and quiet."

"I do, too. Too many people living at my house," Derek agreed.

Owen laughed, and took another drink, feeling the brown liquid warm him from the inside out. It wasn't just the peace and quiet they should envy, he thought. Even in the midst of recovering from his injury, he was happier living with Cristina these last few weeks than he had been in ages, maybe ever. Between the move and the progress in his therapy, he was feeling satisfied and complete, and a lot like his old self—or at least had started to integrate what he missed about his old self with who he was now. He had the distinctly contented sensation that he was exactly where he ought to be in the world, and Cristina had everything to do with that.

-oooOOOooo-

Alex noticed movement out of the corner of his eye as he took his first drink from the beer bottle. When he put it down, he saw that Jackson Avery had parked himself in the seat next to him.

"Hey."

"Hey," Alex answered. He took another swallow.

"How're you feeling?" Jackson asked.

Alex shrugged. "Okay, I guess. My range of motion is still jacked up. Can't lift my arm all the way up yet. I'm working on it in physical therapy."

"That sucks."

"Yep," he said. "It sure does suck." They sat quietly for a few minutes, still drinking.

"You want to play darts?" Jackson asked, pointing with his thumb to the dartboard on the wall behind them.

Alex looked at him. "Dude, I just told you I can't lift my arm right. I can't play darts."

Jackson smiled. "That's good for me, because I suck at darts. It'll be a fair game." He watched Alex hesitate. "Come on. You'll probably beat me even if you use your other arm. Winner buys the next beer."

Alex waited a moment, considering. Much as he didn't want to admit it, after all the recovery time at home, he was feeling a bit lonesome and could use the company. "Fine. Let's go."

They played for a few minutes, and Alex found that throwing wasn't as difficult as he expected. He also discovered that Jackson wasn't lying when he said he sucked at darts; he had even hit the wall on the last toss.

"Dude, you're horrible at this."

"I know. I don't know what it is, and I never improve. But I'll have another one of these," Jackson smirked taunting him with his beer. Karev went to the bar and came back with two more bottles. They started up a new game.

Jackson watched Alex throw his darts. He had an ulterior motive when he sat down with Alex, and now discovered that he was nervous to bring up the topic.

"Have you talked to Lexie at all?"

Alex paused and looked at him. "I talk to her all the time." He resumed throwing.

"I know. About the shooting. Have you talked to her about the shooting?"

"She knows I got shot. Not much to say."

"I mean about what happened to her. Have you talked to her about that?" Jackson took his place in front of the dartboard and concentrated on his throw, trying to avoid looking at Alex's reaction.

"Why? What'd she say? Did she say something about me?"

"No, nothing, she didn't say anything. I mean, she said some stuff, but not about you. She's been…I don't know. Something's not right." Jackson threw the dart; it bounced off the board and fell on the floor. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Alex picked up the fallen dart, and held it back from Jackson. "What do you mean, something's not right."

Jackson sighed, wondering if maybe he shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. "When you scrub in, how long do you wash your hands?"

"I don't know, a few minutes? What does that have to do with it?"

"Lexie. She scrubs in for like 15 minutes before a surgery, and 20 after. The other day I saw her lock a supply cabinet, then go back to check and make sure she locked it six times. She keeps straightening things up at the nurse's stations, making sure all the charts and pens and binders are all lined up in perfect order. It's driving the nurses crazy." He nodded his head. "She wasn't like that before the shooting. It's affected her and she's not seeing what she's doing. I'm worried about her."

"You're worried about her? You're worried about my girlfriend?"

Jackson blushed. "I don't mean it like that. I mean…I just…." he stammered.

Alex handed him back the dart and watched as Jackson became more and more uncomfortable.

"You like Lexie," he said.

"Sure, I like her," Jackson answered, scrambling. "She's a nice girl, she's a good doctor, she…."

"No, I mean you _like her_ like her. You like my girlfriend."

Jackson stood silently. He wanted to deny it, but he knew Alex was on to him.

Alex shook his head. "Not cool, dude. Not cool at all."

"I know," he said, embarrassed. "I didn't mean for it to happen. But I'm not going to tell her. I'm not trying to move in on anything." _First Yang, now Lexie,_ Jackson thought. _Why can't I find someone who isn't already taken? What's wrong with me?_

"Don't worry about it. I get it," Alex responded. "Like you said, she's a nice girl."

Jackson cocked his head in bewilderment. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Yeah, I mean, it bothers me, but…" Alex paused mid-sentence, slowly becoming aware that it actually didn't bother him nearly as much as maybe it should. He probably ought to feel a lot more jealous than he did, and yet he strangely felt indifferent to the situation. "Look. All I'm saying is that she's a good person, and I can see how it would happen." He stepped up to take his turn.

Jackson watched Alex throw his darts and realized that earlier when he had said something wasn't right, he had barely touched the tip of the iceberg.

-oooOOOooo-

Meredith and Cristina stood next to each other at the nurse's station, filling in patient charts. Meredith soon became aware of Cristina watching her.

"What?" She said, not looking up.

"Nothing," Cristina answered, looking back at her charts.

"What?"

Cristina looked back up again and clicked her pen a couple of times.

"Seriously, Cristina, what is it?" Meredith said, exasperated, turning fully towards her. Cristina straightened up and put her pen down.

"Okay, so you and McDreamy are trying for a baby now, right?"

Meredith nodded.

"What's that like? I mean, is it weird? Obviously, not the sex part, but the trying part. Is that weird?"

"Yeah, it is—it's bizarre," she half whispered, trying to keep the conversation private. "I mean, we haven't been trying much yet, considering Derek's been recovering, but it's definitely different. It's like…I don't know. You know what it's like? It's like driving a car without a seat belt."

"Having sex with McDreamy is like driving a car? Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"No," Meredith laughed. "What I mean is, it's like all your life you drive your car and you wear your seat belt, just in case. You know, to protect yourself. And then one day, you say, I'm not going to wear my seat belt anymore, and it's like you're driving around, almost daring an accident to happen. Haha, look at me, no seat belt. Anything could happen. It's dangerous, is what it is. It feels dangerous and risky. But exciting, too."

"Huh." Cristina chewed on her bottom lip, thinking.

Meredith looked at her warily. "What? Why do you ask?"

Cristina glanced at her, and then waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing. It's nothing." Her phone went off, and she pulled it out, grateful for the distraction. She read the text, and laughed. "Owen's drunk," she said.

Meredith went back to her writing. "How do you know?"

"His message. Full of bad grammar and spelling. He hates that—I don't know if it's a military thing or what. When he texts after he's had a few drinks, half the time I can't figure out what he's saying."

"That's funny," Meredith said, just as her phone went off as well. Cristina began responding to Owen's text as Mer read her message. "Is Derek with Owen?"

"I don't know. Why?"

Meredith showed Cristina her phone. The message read: _Cn you take me hom Ineeda ridehome Dr Mrs. SheperdGray?_

Cristina laughed. "Ha—nice one. They're definitely together." Her phone went off again with Owen's response. She looked at it and smiled.

"What's it say?" Mer asked.

Cristina's eyes flickered back up. She shook her head and put the phone on the counter. "Nothing. I'm off in a half hour. You want to go over to Joe's then?"

"Yeah, I just need to check on my guy in 314. Meet you out front." She set her folder in the file on the desk.

"Okay." Cristina watched Meredith as she headed down the hall. Then she looked back down and read Owen's new message a second time.

It said: _Iloove you CristiinaY ang_

She smiled again, turned off the device and slid it into her pocket.

-oooOOOooo-

"It's not my fault," Mark declared, throwing his hands in the air in his defense. "They're both lightweights. But I won't lie and say I'm not enjoying it."

Cristina and Meredith turned to their respective other halves and watched, amused, as the men sat red-faced and laughing at nothing in particular. Apparently, a few glasses of expensive scotch after a couple of dry months had turned two respected, highly skilled surgeons into little more than giggling sorority girls hammered from a long night of knocking back jungle juice.

"Yay," said Cristina. "Look who we get to go home with." Meredith laughed, and then put on a serious face.

"Okay, husband. This train is leaving the station. You coming?"

Derek pointed to Meredith, looked at Owen, and slurred, "I'm going home with her. She's my wife. I married her."

"I know," Owen replied, "on a Post It."

"Yes! I married her on a Post It!" Derek reached his hand out to Meredith to steady himself. "I would marry you on a Post It again any day of the week. Or on a Day Planner. Or an iPad." He wrapped his arm around her waist. "Whatever kind of organizational device you want, I will marry you on it." He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, landing closer to her nose.

"Okay then, definitely time to go home." She looked over Derek towards Mark. "Not your fault, eh?"

"I swear. I've had the same amount as them, and I am still a fine, upstanding citizen."

"Uh huh. Sure you are." Mer retorted, turning to Cristina. "See you tomorrow." Owen had grabbed Cristina's hand and pulled her next to him, where he was now gazing adoringly at her.

"Mmmhmmm. Good luck with that," Cristina responded, shrugging towards Derek, who was leaning heavily on Meredith as they moved to the doorway. She glanced down at Owen. "What?" She said suspiciously.

Owen pulled her down awkwardly onto his lap and whispered loudly in her ear. "Let's go home. To our home. Where we live, you and me. In our home. Where we live."

She laughed, and struggled to right herself. "That's the plan, Dr. Goodtimes. Come on." She got herself on her feet and pulled him up beside her. Owen wobbled a bit, then steadied himself.

"We will be leaving you now," he said formally to Mark.

"Well, that wouldn't be the first time I've been left alone in a bar," he answered, toasting his glass to the couple and taking a drink. He glanced over to see Callie still propped up at the counter, now with an empty shot glass next to her drink.

They said their goodbyes, and made their way to the exit and out into the alley. Halfway down the walkway, Owen extricated himself from Cristina's supportive embrace and turned to look at her.

"What?"

He said nothing, but smiled slightly.

"Owen?"

He abruptly stepped towards her, causing her to back up until she was against the brick wall, him towering over her. She looked up at him from under her lashes as he gently touched the side of her face.

"I kissed you here once," he whispered.

"I remember."

"I thought I scared you."

"You didn't. I liked it." She put her hand on his chest and tilted her head up to watch him. He leaned in, and kissed her softly. The kiss broke momentarily, and Cristina had just enough time to notice the smoky flavor of the scotch on her lips before he kissed her again, this time more urgently. The second kiss ended only when each finally needed to take a breath. Owen closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Cristina's.

"I had tried to stay away from you. And then, after I kissed you, I knew I wouldn't be able to."

Cristina smiled, and took a moment to enjoy the closeness of Owen's embrace. Then she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him just far enough away so that she could look into his eyes.

"That's because I'm irresistible," she replied.

Owen grinned lustily. "You know what else you are?" He said, leaning in close and touching the tip of her nose with his finger. "You're pretty."

"And you're drunk," she said, batting his hand away and trying to hide her amusement at his inebriated state. She slid her arm around his waist as they turned towards the sidewalk. "Let's go home. To our home. Where we live. You and me."

"You and me," he repeated happily.

-oooOOOooo-

Mark slid onto the barstool next to Callie.

"So what did you fight about today?" He asked.

She glanced over at him, and then emptied her rum and coke. "Today? The question is more what didn't we fight about. Every time I open my mouth, it's something else."

"The kids thing again?"

She exhaled a deep sigh. "No. Not that. Today was about whether or not I'm a drive-by lesbian. A change of pace from the usual I-want-kids-and-you-don't fight."

"Huh. Well, they say change is good."

Callie spun in her barstool towards Mark. "I don't know what else I can tell her to convince her that while we are together, I'm committed to our relationship. I can't help it if I've been with men before. So sue me. I like penis."

"Me, too!" Exclaimed Joe, who happened by at that exact moment to switch out her empty glass for a fresh cocktail. He gave Callie an appreciative high five.

"Right?" She said to the bartender. "Thank you!" She picked up the new drink and waved it towards Mark; he flinched back to avoid being splashed. "I like penis. I like men. Doesn't mean I don't like vagina, too. I like vagina."

"Me, too," Mark answered, wondering how he somehow managed to be the only sober person left in Joe's that night. "Vagina is good."

"It is, isn't it?" Callie sat back, contemplating her situation. "You know what the thing is?"

"No. Tell me what is the thing."

"I'm like the swirl."

Mark shook his head, confused. "The swirl?"

"You know. The swirl. At the fair. You know, when you go to the fair, and you get a soft ice cream. Some people are vanilla frosty people. They always get vanilla. Some people are chocolate frosty people. They always get chocolate. You're either a vanilla or a chocolate. But some people," she said, pointing at him for extra emphasis, "some people can't decide. They like the vanilla. They like the chocolate. They like both. So they get the swirl. I like both. I am a swirl."

He stared at her. "A swirl."

"Uh huh. A swirl. Today I like chocolate. Am I always going to like chocolate? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe one day I'll go back to vanilla. The point is, I should be able to have both if I want. Right?" Callie leaned on the bar, her chin in her hand, waiting for an answer. Mark ran his finger around the edge of his glass, staring at the brown liquid inside.

"Right?" She repeated expectantly. He looked up at her.

"I think," he started, speaking carefully, "that you should have any flavor you want. But you need to make sure that it's the right flavor for you. That it's the flavor that makes you happy." He went back to playing with the glass. "It seems to me that the Robbins flavor is not making you very happy these days."

When he glanced back up at her, she sat hunched over, deflated and sad.

"The thing is, when I'm with Arizona, it's because I want to be with Arizona. It's not a penis or a vagina thing. It's a person thing. I want to be with her. I don't get how she doesn't get that." Callie took a sip and put her glass down.

"Maybe this is still part of the baby thing. You want a baby, she doesn't. You like men, she doesn't. In the most traditional sense, you need a man to get a baby. So she's worried you'll break up with her because you want a baby so badly that you'll go back to men."

"Maybe. I don't know. All I do know is that we can't keep on arguing like this. Something's got to give."

They both went back to nursing their drinks, lost in thought. After a few minutes, Mark looked up at her with an evil grin.

"I like the swirl. The swirl is a good move."

Callie snorted in laughter. "I know. You taught it to me."

"I did?" He asked, surprised.

"Mmmhmmm," she nodded. "Hahn."

"Oh yeah," he remembered. "Hahn." They laughed again, and Callie let out a wistful sigh.

"The swirl is a good move."

"Yep," he answered, catching her eye. They watched each other until unexpectedly the moment became uncomfortable with electricity. Quickly they turned back to their drinks, suddenly and very nervously aware of the other's presence in a way neither had felt in quite a long while.

-oooOOOooo-

Cristina entered the apartment before Owen, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it over the back of the chair. She turned to watch Owen awkwardly removing his own coat and hanging it on one of the hooks he had insisted on installing on the wall specifically for that purpose, despite Cristina's equal insistence that she would never remember to use it. She threw her keys on the counter and went to the cupboard, pulling out one wine glass and one water glass. She turned back to see Owen hanging up her coat as well.

"I didn't know you had a room in Shepherd's house," he said, lifting himself up onto the barstool at the kitchen counter across from her. Cristina passed him a glass of water, and he took a long drink.

"Mmmhmmm," she murmured. She went to the fridge and pulled out a pizza box. She took out a slice of pepperoni, put it on a plate, and stuck it in the microwave, then poured herself a glass of wine from the half empty bottle on the sink. When the microwave beeped, she took out the plate, and handed it to Owen.

"Here. Eat this."

"Thanks." He took it from her, lifted the slice, and took a giant bite, chewing thoughtfully. She drank a sip of the zinfandel, and watched him.

"I hope this doesn't mean," he continued, "that when we get married and get a house, we have to have rooms in it for all our friends."

Cristina choked on her sip of wine and spit half of it back into the glass.

"Excuse me?" She said, her eyes wide.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I like them all, and we should definitely have a guest room or two. But after we're married, we'll probably eventually move some place bigger, and I don't think we need to have specific rooms for each and every person we know." He took another sip of water. "Now that it's finally just the two of us, I like it that way. Is there any ibuprofen in that cabinet?"

Cristina stood staring at him, speechless. She wasn't sure how she should react to the idea that he had so casually brought up marriage as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But she definitely couldn't ignore the fact that she felt a ridiculous flutter of excitement in her chest when he mentioned the M word. She reached up, found the bottle of medication, and silently handed him three tablets. Stupid flutter.

"But I will tell you one thing," he went on, gesturing with his pizza crust. "When we do get married, I want to do it right. I don't mean big or fancy or anything, and I don't care if you want to change your name or not. But I want it to be legal. None of that Post-It nonsense." He popped the last of the slice into his mouth, and finally noticed the stunned expression on her face. "What?"

She set her wine glass on the counter. "You're talking about getting married."

He sat back, surprised. "Cristina," he said quietly. "I think about marrying you."

"You do?"

"Yes. I do. Is that okay?"

She didn't say anything, instead deciding to concentrate on getting rid of that damned flutter that had appeared again.

He leaned across the counter and reached out to her. After hesitating a moment, she slid her hand into his.

"Cristina, I think about marrying you. I think about marrying you because I want to be with you for the rest of my life. You already know that. But I also hope that, one day, when I'm ready, and when you're ready, if you truly want to, I hope that we will get married. If we don't, that's okay, as long as I get to be with you. But it is something I think about. Okay?"

She looked into his deep blue eyes and wondered momentarily why this didn't freak her out as much as she thought it should. And then she nodded yes.

"Okay, then," he smiled. He pulled her hand so that she came around the counter and stood closely before him. Her wild hair had come loose from her messy ponytail, and he tucked a curl behind her ear.

"What else do you think about?" She asked softly.

"Oh, different things. Where we'll move when you do your cardio fellowship. Buying a house. Our honeymoon in Hawaii."

"Hawaii? No. We're not going to Hawaii."

He pulled back slightly and his brow furrowed in confusion. "But you said Hawaii. Your ideal vacation—the nude beach in Hawaii. I wanted to take you there for our honeymoon."

"Joking. I was joking. Have you looked in the mirror? You're so pale you're practically translucent. They don't make SPF 9 million. We're not going to Hawaii."

"Cristina, I lived in the desert for years."

"Were you naked in the desert?"

"No."

"So that should tell you something. No nude beach in Hawaii."

He frowned. "Okay then. No Hawaii. Where do you want to go? What is your ideal honeymoon?"

Cristina grabbed her wine glass and took a sip to stall for time. This conversation was nerve wracking, though admittedly, not quite as scary as she expected.

"If you don't tell me, then I'll decide."

She hesitated, watching him tentatively over the rim of her glass.

"Okay. Camping it is. Although I'm not really big on car camping, so we'll have to backpack in." He grinned at her.

"Like hell," she answered.

"I had better go get you a new sleeping bag, though. If we get married in the winter, it'll be snow camping, so you'll need a warm one, maybe a minus 30 degree bag." He started laughing as she became more agitated, her eyes widening in horror at the thought of hiking and sleeping outdoors in the dirt and the snow.

"There is no way in hell I am camping on my honeymoon," she declared.

"Then tell me, where would you like to go? No Hawaii. No camping. Where?"

She watched him and took another sip, not losing his gaze. Then she mumbled something softly into her glass.

"What? What was that?"

"Paris," she repeated. "I want to go to Paris." She looked up from her glass shyly and smiled.

"Paris," he said slowly, smiling back. "Okay. I think we can work with that. Paris on our honeymoon. That sounds," he said leaning in and giving her the lightest of kisses, "like an excellent plan." He kissed her again, more deeply this time, and felt her lean into him. Later, he broke away breathlessly and spoke in a low growl. "Let's go to bed," he said, sucking on her bottom lip.

"Mmmm," she mumbled, and then pulled back from him. "Wait. You need to shower first. You smell like," she caught herself before she said 'a distillery', remembering the first time she had seen him drunk on scotch. So much had changed since then, and she was so much happier now than she may have ever been. "Joe's," she finished. "You smell like Joe's."

"Come with me," he said, slipping off the bench and pulling her with him towards the bathroom. "I'll show you my scars if you show me yours," he continued, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a small, pink, quarter sized scar on his shoulder.

"I've seen that one. The one on your leg is hotter," she said feigning boredom. "My best scar is my icicle."

"I like that one," he told her, his voice low and rumbling as he ran his hand under her shirt to touch it, making her catch her breath. "What about the one on your knee?"

"How do you know about the one on my knee?"

He leaned close to her ear, his hot breath making her shiver with pleasure. "Because everybody has a scar on their knee," he whispered mischievously, taking her earlobe in his mouth and sucking on it.

"Bastard," she said, laughing at him as she tried hopelessly to push him away. He grabbed her and lifted her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist.

"I wonder if the showers in Paris are big enough for two?" he asked, as he carried her giggling into the bathroom.

_It's the gradual, most imperceptible changes over time that make what once seemed to be an impossibility become a real maybe, and then turn into something probable, so that what you thought would never happen might one day transform into the most logical thing in the world. _


	6. Episode 6: Don't Bring me Down

This chapter written by angelamermaid

_Sometimes a patient doesn't want surgery. They want to keep things the way are and are resistant to change… No matter how much pain and distress they may be enduring. No matter how much it affects their friends and family. It's hard for them to work through their resistance to change and to truly let go of that which is making them ill._

Cristina and Meredith wrinkled their noses as they looked around the interior of the Airstream trailer that was parked on Derek's land.

"This is what Alex considers clean?" Meredith complained. "I asked him to clean it up. I think he just moved the mess from one side of the trailer to the other."

"You should tell Lexie that it needs tidying up," Cristina suggested. "She likes cleaning a lot lately. If she's getting a room in your new house, she should earn it."

Meredith smiled. "Then _you_ can earn your room by helping to clean."

"Just a minute, I'll get Owen," Cristina smirked.

They looked through the open door at the men outside who were wandering the site of the future house.

"How is Derek doing? He's my star patient, you know."

"He's slowly regaining his strength," Meredith sighed. "He wants to cut so bad. It's all he can think about."

"Poor fellow."

"How are things with you and Owen?"

Cristina smiled softly. "Good. We've christened every piece of furniture in the apartment three times now."

"Even those old end tables?"

"We had to replace those," Cristina grinned. "The new ones are very sturdy."

"Okay, but how is he?" Meredith persisted. "Is Owen, you know, talking?"

Cristina rolled her eyes. "He had a breakthrough, and he won't shut up this week. And! He's asking _me_ questions, trying to get me to talk about my childhood and stuff."

"Oh no," Meredith laughs. "Is he trying to play therapist now?"

"I like playing doctor – and not the mental kind," Cristina chuckled. "And you wouldn't believe what he's talked about."

"What?"

"You remember the other night, when the guys got drunk?"

"Vividly. Derek had a wicked hangover."

"Owen talked about marriage," Cristina confided. "And going camping on our honeymoon."

Meredith gaped.

"Crazy, right?" Cristina smiled. "Me. Camping. We agreed on Paris."

"What? Don't you think you're moving rather quickly?"

Cristina laughed. "Jeez, Mer, we're not going to get married anytime soon. He was drunk and started sharing some of his hopes and dreams for the future. We both need some more therapy before we get married, if we even do."

Her friend frowned. "This sounds familiar. The guy suggests moving in, you move in. The guy suggests marriage, you agree to it."

"_No_," Cristina protested, pointing outside. "_This_ guy doesn't have a timetable. _This_ guy said we didn't even have to get married if I don't want to. And _this_ guy took a bullet for me, remember? Burke got shot on his own time."

Meredith sighed. "Just– Take it slow, okay? I don't want to see you repeating mistakes."

"Don't worry," Cristina said. "Owen's mom is really nice, she'd never lay a hand on my eyebrows."

* * *

They stayed to watch the sunset then Meredith and Derek went into the trailer while Cristina and Owen got into his truck. A light rain started to fall as they pulled away.

"Why are you smiling?" Cristina asked Owen as he drove.

"I was remembering the first time I came to this property," he said. "It was the day of your first solo surgery, when Bailey made me go after Callie and Derek. A lot has changed since then."

"So true."

"I think that's when Derek and I first started to become friends," Owen mused. "At least, I stopped thinking he was a pretentious prick."

"Ha!"

"That's a nice piece of land," Owen mused. "I can see why he held onto it."

"You're– You're not already thinking about where you want to buy a house, are you?"

Owen snorted. "No, I'm in no rush to move again. I like where we are."

"Good."

They smiled at each other then drove in silence for a few minutes. The only sounds were made by the windshield wipers.

Their reverie was interrupted by a loud bang as the truck suddenly jolted to the right. Owen quickly pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out. Cristina joined him, pulling her jacket over her head for protection from the rain.

"It's just a flat tire," Owen said, crouching down at the back right wheel. "An easy fix."

"Should you be changing a tire with your shoulder?" Cristina asked.

"Do _you_ want to change it?"

"No, that's what Roadside Assistance is for," she said.

Owen laughed and shook his head. "I can change the tire."

"But it's raining."

"We can wait out the rain in the truck," Owen said. They climbed into the cab and looked at each other.

Cristina looked out of the window. "I do believe this rain is going to last a while. Here we are, stuck with a flat tire on a dark and secluded road…"

"Yeah," Owen said. "Do you want me to turn the radio on?"

"If you like," she replied, provocatively toying with a lock of her hair. "What I really want to know is … Have we christened the truck?"

Owen grinned. "I believe we've christened the bed … but not the back seat."

She smiled and undid her seatbelt. They quickly removed any obstructive clothing.

"Why don't you get on the bottom?" Cristina innocently suggested as they climbed into the back. Owen readily complied, then helped her settle on top of him.

"Now you can use both of your hands," she smiled, stroking him. "I only need one …"

"I have a buckle digging in my back," he said, adjusting his position. "Don't think I don't know why you really want to be on top."

She smirked, running her delicate fingers along his length, making him hiss. "You know me so well."

He smiled, putting one of his hands behind her head, guiding her into a fierce kiss. His free hand roamed to her breasts, squeezing and caressing. They kissed and tantalized each other, Cristina subtly grinding her wetness against his leg.

When the ache between her legs became unbearable, Cristina tore her mouth from Owen's in order to rise up and then sink herself down on him. She propped herself on one hand, letting the other wander his broad chest, teasing his nipples. He bent his knees and his hands moved to exactly where she wanted them, triggering a wave of heat that overwhelmed her with its intensity. She rocked against him, moaning, while he whispered how much her pleasure was turning him on.

As her climax ebbed, she grabbed his face to kiss him again.

"Hold on," he said, gripping her waist.

"Huh?"

Before she knew what was happening, he wriggled and flipped her over. She opened her mouth to protest, but then he was driving into her, hard and fast, and she forgot what she was going to say. Owen's hand returned to where they were joined, pressing against her hard, as he drove deeper and deeper. She gasped and he groaned, as she was jolted back into bliss and he found his own release.

Spent, Owen gently kissed Cristina's neck, as they panted and sighed. Soon, the rain against the windows was the only sound.

Cristina finally broke the silence. "Owen?"

"Yeah?"

"The god-damned buckle is digging into my back."

* * *

The next morning, Alex found Lexie examining her appearance closely in the bathroom mirror. She was pulling locks of hair around her face.

"Got a zit?" Alex asked.

"No," she smiled. "I'm trying to decide if I should stay blonde – or at least this shade of blonde. Or cut my hair. Or change my colour and my cut. What do you think?"

"Lexie, I'm a guy," he told her. "I think you should ask one of your friends."

"Aren't you my friend?" Lexie asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Yes," he said, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Look, I like your hair no matter what you do to it. If you're looking for colour or style recommendations, you need to ask someone who knows about that stuff. Like April or Meredith."

"I could ask Jackson," Lexie mused, looking at her reflection again. "He's got some very interesting theories on appearances."

"Whatever," Alex said, reaching for his toothbrush. He did not want to talk about the guy who _liked_ his girlfriend.

Lexie turned to frown at him. "It doesn't bother you that I'd ask another guy about how I look?"

"It's just hair," Alex shrugged. "Jackson's okay. Hey, why don't you try to hook him up with – ah, April? They're both single."

"What?" Lexie looked at Alex. "When did you become a matchmaker?"

Alex stammered. "Well, um, he was looking kind of lonely the other night at Joe's. And you know April is kind of a spaz. She needs to get laid. They should hook up."

"You think?" Lexie rolled her eyes. "I don't really think they're each other's type."

He shrugged. "They both came from Mercy West, they both survived the shootings –" He stopped as Lexie's face fell. "Sorry. Forget I said anything. Your hair is fine the way it is."

* * *

Owen was walking towards the nurses' station in the Pit when a small, dark-haired woman jumped in front of him. "Found you!" The olive-skinned woman smiled triumphantly.

"Monica!" Owen grinned in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm in Seattle for a Human Resources conference," she smiled. "I heard that you were working here now and thought I'd drop in to see if it was true."

"It's true," he smiled. "God, it's been years since I've seen you. Since—"

"Since you abandoned Maryland Shock and Trauma to join the Army," she said. "We had a helluva time replacing you. And you promised that you'd return when you were discharged!"

He smiled and shrugged. "Life, um, got in the way."

"How about I buy you a coffee and we catch up?" Monica offered.

"Deal."

* * *

"I was just a total rock star down in Peds," Cristina enthused, entering the locker room where Meredith was changing. "And Teddy's got a surgical ventricular restoration with a coronary bypass set up next," she added. "How is your day going?"

"Bailey gave me a hernia repair," Meredith replied. "And then the rest of the day will be nice and quiet."

"You just jinxed yourself."

"I know."

April smiled as she saw Lexie primping in the mirror in her locker. "Stop it, your hair is perfect," she teased her new friend.

"Really?" Lexie said. She looked at April thoughtfully. "Maybe I should cut it shorter, like yours. It's more practical."

April shrugged.

"Just don't cut it like Izzie's," Cristina piped up from across the room. "She had her hair like that before the chemo."

"I think Alex can tell Lexie apart from Izzie," April giggled. She turned to face Lexie, who looked stricken. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lexie said, flashing a bright smile. "Let's go!"

* * *

Derek looked at the piles of forms to be signed on his desk and shook his head in frustration. He was hating being out of commission more and more.

"Coffee break!" Meredith appeared in the doorway, holding two cups.

"My saviour," he smiled, accepting her gift.

"How goes the battle?" Meredith asked, indicating the paperwork.

"It never ends," Derek muttered. "Just when I finish a pile, something happens. A patient throwing a huge fit and demanding to see me. Or a recruiter chatting up my department heads in my own hospital…"

"A recruiter?"

"Uh huh," Derek said. "Our head of HR recognized someone from Maryland Shock Trauma having coffee with Owen and gave me the heads up. The grapevine says that there has been a shake-up and a wave of resignations in Maryland, and their recruiters are hitting a lot of major hospitals, trying to lure the best of the best in."

Meredith frowned. "Owen?"

"We can't lose him, he's too damn good," Derek sighed. "We're a level one trauma unit now, thanks to him. Even with all of our budget problems, he keeps the Pit going. Some days, I swear he's holding the ER together with duct tape and Band-Aids."

"But Owen wouldn't leave, would he?" Meredith asked.

Derek shrugged. "He's been very unhappy with the latest changes that the Board mandated. I honestly wouldn't blame him for leaving. And I made a couple of calls, and it turns out that Maryland Shock Trauma currently doesn't have a Head of Trauma. And he was at Maryland Shock and Trauma before he joined the Army…"

Meredith sipped at her coffee, considering Derek's words. She'd often wondered what brought Owen to Seattle Grace, when a man of his skill could have gotten a job anywhere. She sighed. Owen Hunt was still a mystery to her, and much of what she knew didn't impress her.

* * *

Standing in the Pit, Jackson Avery frowned as he watched Lexie Grey from a distance. She was repeatedly rearranging a pile of clipboards.

"Avery," Mark Sloan said, appearing to his right. "I got this patient who needs stitching on her hand. She cut it when she broke a champagne glass… And you get to be the guy who gets me my supplies."

"Dr Sloan?" Jackson frowned. "You were with Lexie during the shooting, right?"

"Right," Mark replied. "Except when she left to get supplies. Which is what I'm telling you to do."

Jackson kept his eyes on Lexie. "That day… What happened? Was there something really messy?"

"The whole hospital was a mess," Mark said, noticing that Avery was paying rather close attention to Lexie. "Karev in particular. There was blood everywhere. It was a nightmare, treating him without anesthetic. Why?"

"Something's wrong with Lexie," Jackson said, finally turning to look at Mark. "She keeps cleaning and cleaning over and over again – when she isn't trying to rearrange everything that looks out of place."

Mark nodded, turning to watch Lexie. He frowned to see something…obsessive…in her actions.

* * *

Meredith saw Owen pacing through the windows of his office as she and Bailey approached. Bailey marched straight to the door and knocked. Owen immediately went to the door and opened it, gesturing for them to enter. They saw that Dr Nelson, more commonly known as Shadow Shepherd, was in the office with Owen.

"Here's that file I called you about," Bailey said. "I hope we're not intruding."

"Not at all," Owen sighed, quickly looking at the notes. "I needed a quick breather from the Pit, and poor Jim here was listening to me vent. Just about everything that could go wrong today has gone wrong."

"Hi Meredith, Dr Bailey," the other doctor smiled.

"Hi Sha– Dr Nelson," Meredith replied.

Owen held up one of the scans in the file. "Oh yeah, I see it. I agree that we'll need to order an MRI for this patient."

"We'll need to beg Derek and the Board to authorize it, you mean. Apparently I've been spending too much of the hospital's money," Bailey scowled.

Owen shook his head. "This place is a madhouse. Makes me miss the good old days when a hospital board was supposed to help doctors do their jobs. Now, they act like it's cheaper to just let patients die rather than approve the scans we need to effectively diagnose and treat them."

Meredith watched Owen, noting how grim he was. She sighed, feeling a sense of foreboding.

* * *

April and Jackson walked down the hall, chatting about a case, when they saw something that made them stop and stare. Lexie Grey had a mop and bucket out and was mopping up a bloody mess on the floor.

"Um, Lexie?" April asked. "That's not your job."

"It was my fault," Lexie muttered. "I punctured a bag of O neg."

"We told her to wait until Maintenance got here," a nurse informed them. "But they're short-staffed today, and she insisted on cleaning it up while we wait for someone to come do it."

"Hey, Lexie," Jackson said softly. "When was the last time you had a break?"

"It was my fault," Lexie repeated, head down.

"What do we do?" April whispered to Jackson.

"April, why don't you take Lexie for a cup of coffee?" Jackson said loudly, forcibly taking the mop from Lexie's hands. "I'll finish up here."

April grabbed Lexie by the arm and pulled her away, down the hall. "But it was my fault," Lexie insisted, looking back at the blood.

* * *

Meredith checked her watch – Derek was late for an impromptu coffee break at three. She smiled when he turned a corner and appeared.

"Hey, you escaped from your desk!"

"I left my desk to say goodbye to one of Maryland's new department heads," Derek muttered. "That recruiter managed to lure a couple of people away with offer letters out of the blue. Really good people, too. This day is shot to hell." His pager went off. Derek looked at it and grimaced. "Oh good, another crisis. See you tonight." He quickly kissed her on the cheek and left.

Meredith frowned, watching him leave. A squealing sound drew her attention to the other end of the corridor. She turned her head in time to see a short, dark-haired woman excitedly shake Owen's hand and hug him.

* * *

April tugged at Lexie's arm, dragging her to the locker room which was thankfully empty. She gently shoved her friend until Lexie was sitting down on a bench, staring straight ahead.

"Do you want me to call someone?" April asked. "Meredith? Alex?"

Lexie flinched at the second name.

"Okay, not him," April muttered. "Um… Mark?"

"I forgot," Lexie said quietly. "He thought I was Izzie."

"Who did?"

Lexie looked down at the floor.

"Al – he thought you were Izzie?" April asked softly. "When?"

"When we were treating him, during the lockdown" Lexie said. "He was so happy to see _her_. He was so happy that _she_ came back. He begged _her_ to never leave him again."

April nibbled her bottom lip and gripped Lexie's hands.

"I let him think I was her," Lexie said distantly. "It kept him calm while Mark worked on him. It made him happy."

"Oh, Lexie," April said softly, tears coming to her eyes.

"Hey there," Derek said, entering the locker room. He stopped when she saw the two women, sitting so seriously. "Sorry. Um – lose a patient?"

Lexie shook her head, snapping out of her trance. "I spilled some blood. I have to go clean it up." She started to rise, but April grabbed her shoulders and forced her to sit again. Lexie began to hyperventilate.

Derek frowned, watching them. He looked at Lexie and recognized the signs of an anxiety attack. "Go get Meredith," he told April. "I'll keep Lexie here."

April jumped up and ran out of the locker room, almost running into Mark Sloan and Jackson Avery, who were rushing towards Lexie.

Gasping, she ran down the hall and turned a corner, blindly slamming into Cristina.

"Hold on," Cristina said, grabbing April's shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Lexie," April panted. "I have to get Meredith for Lexie. She's having some sort of panic attack in the locker room."

"You need to calm down before you have a panic attack too," Cristina said. "I'll get Meredith."

* * *

Meredith paced the length of Derek's office, twisting her hands. She was trying to make sense of what she knew about Owen and the Maryland recruiter.

"Hey," Cristina said, entering the office. "Something's not right with Lexie. You need to come with me."

"With Lexie?" Meredith blurted out. "Have you talked with _Owen_ today?"

"Not really," Cristina said, blinking in surprise. "We saw each other in an on call room, and there was very little _talking_."

"When?"

Cristina thought for a second before replying. "Around two o'clock, after I got out of three back-to-back surgeries. Why?"

Meredith exhaled in frustration. "What do you do when you think someone is repeating a behaviour, but you don't want to think that they're doing it, because you really want to believe that they've changed, and you know that they've done things that are very good, but then you hear things and it just doesn't make sense?"

"I told you, I'm not rushing into marriage to please Owen," Cristina scowled. "We are not engaged."

"I'm not talking about you," Meredith said carefully. "Not directly…"

"Owen told me that he had coffee to catch up with a colleague from Maryland Shock Trauma, if that's what you're so frustrated about," Cristina said. "He said she's a very happy newlywed, so please don't think that they're in love with each other."

"It's not that—" Meredith started.

Cristina held up her hands. "You can tell me all about it later. But right now, you need to go help Lexie."

* * *

Alex Karev sat at his desk in the clinic, morosely looking at charts. He hated being stuck in the clinic, but he hadn't been cleared to perform surgery again.

He looked around the clinic, the clinic that Izzie had funded. In another man's name.

Hastily, he picked up the charts, feeling a sudden desire to focus on medicine. A shadow fell over his desk and he looked up. Mark Sloan and Derek Shepherd were standing over him, looking grim.

* * *

They gathered outside of Dr Wyatt's office, where she was speaking with a distraught Lexie. Alex sat on a chair, stony-faced and looking straight ahead. Mark Sloan leaned on a post and watched the door. Jackson and April sat off to the side, where he was assuring her that she'd done all that she could.

Derek paced and looked at his Blackberry. Meredith stood as far away from the door as possible, drained. She kept asking herself why she hadn't seen the signs. She wished that Cristina was with her, but she'd been paged by Teddy to assist on a procedure.

Owen walked up to Meredith. "Hey," he said softly. "I just heard about Lexie. I'm sorry—"

"Don't sneak up on me like that," Meredith hissed at him. He stepped back, shocked.

"I think that you might be keeping a big secret from Cristina," Meredith continued. "I don't even want to look at you right now."

Owen glowered at her. "Come with me," was all he said.

They walked down a hall until they found an empty office. They entered it, and Owen closed the door behind him. "What secret am I keeping?" Owen asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Maryland Shock Trauma!" Meredith sputtered, waving her arms in frustration.

"What about Maryland Shock Trauma?" Owen asked, fighting to stay calm. "It's no secret that I once worked there."

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid," she spat out. "I know that you met with a recruiter, Owen. I know that she was looking to fill some positions, and I know that Maryland Shock Trauma doesn't have a Head of Trauma."

"That's true," Owen said. "I had coffee in a public area with a former colleague, and I introduced her to some people. Not a secret."

"And I know that she poached some people today, including a new department head."

"She did," Owen agreed. "She got a new Head of Neurosurgery."

Meredith gasped. And then winced.

"I told Monica about how Dr Nelson took excellent care of me after I got shot," Owen explained, impatiently. "She asked to meet him, so I introduced her to Jim, and she made him a very generous offer, which he accepted. He's no longer 'Shadow Shepherd,' he's Dr Nelson, Head of Neurosurgery, and I wish him the best. He's earned it."

Meredith stared at Owen, feeling quite stupid. "So…she didn't recruit you?"

"She tried," Owen readily admitted. "But I turned down her down before she could even name a salary."

"But you said this place is a madhouse —"

"It is," he agreed. "And this is where Cristina is doing her residency. Also, I've put a lot of work into improving the Trauma department, and I'm not done yet. So, I'm staying."

Meredith sighed.

"So you thought that I had agreed to take a job in Maryland without talking to Cristina first?" Owen asked incredulously.

"It didn't quite make sense," Meredith admitted defensively. "I heard bits and pieces of today's events, and I _tried_ to have faith that you weren't keeping a secret from Cristina. I really did."

"I'm going to say this as nicely as I can," Owen informed her. "You don't know me. You don't know what happened to me in Iraq. You sure as hell don't know what it's like to be the one person to survive an ambush that killed the other nineteen people in your unit. So you don't get to judge me as if you know me. The next time you think I've done something horrible to Cristina, you come straight to me first and you _ask_ me. Don't get all worked up and then accuse me."

Meredith stared at him, her body sagging. "I didn't know about the nineteen people," she said quietly.

"It's not something I like to talk about," Owen acknowledged. "But it's a part of me, it's a part of my history, and I promise you that I am working very hard on that with Dr Wyatt to cope with it so that I can have a future with Cristina."

Meredith nodded. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I know you've been working with Dr Wyatt, and I respect you for that. And I do believe that you want to be with Cristina."

Owen blinked. "Thank you for that."

"And then Lexie spiralled out of control and I was out of control. I apologize."

"Apology accepted," Owen said. "You are Cristina's person, and you are the wife of my second best friend. I _want_ us to get along."

Meredith cocked her head. "Second best friend?"

Owen nodded. "Cristina comes first. In everything."

"Oh!" Meredith smiled ruefully, moved by his simple admission. "Well. Now I see what she sees in you."

Owen smiled and extended his hand. "Can we please try to be Team Cristina now?"

She shook his hand. "Okay."

* * *

Meredith and Mark stood outside of the residents' locker room and watched April and Jackson pack up Lexie's belongings.

"I should have recognized the symptoms," Mark admitted quietly. "I was too wrapped up in my own issues."

"We've all been wrapped up in our own issues since the shootings," Meredith said. "None of us have been seeing each other clearly."

"Hey," Cristina said, as she approached. "What's the update?"

"Lexie is going on short-term leave," Meredith said quietly. "She asked us to pack up her things while she does the paperwork with Derek."

"Where's Alex?"

Meredith shrugged. "He took off."

Cristina touched her arm. "Mere, can I speak with you privately?"

They found an unoccupied supply closet and stepped inside.

"Owen told me about the job offer earlier today," Cristina said. "Right before we had our on call room session. He kept nothing from me."

"I was stupid," Meredith sighed. "I'm sorry."

"He's not perfect, and he's made mistakes," Cristina acknowledged. "But he's had several opportunities to leave me, and he hasn't. I've learned to put more trust in him. You need to start trusting him."

Meredith nodded. "I– I need to get to know him."

"Owen's a nice guy," Cristina said. "I keep him around for more than the hot sweaty sex, you know. He cooks _and_ cleans. "

"He offered to help Lexie in any way he can," Meredith shared. "I think he can give me some insights on how I can help her."

Cristina nodded. "He's a good guy that got caught in some horrible experiences in Iraq, and he's fighting his way through them."

"Yeah," Meredith said softly. "He said he lost nineteen people in his unit in an attack, and he was the only survivor. All this time, I've never known that about him."

Cristina raised her eyebrows. "Owen told you about the ambush?"

Meredith nodded.

"That's great!" Cristina smiled.

"It is?"

"It means he had a _big_ breakthrough this week," Cristina enthused. "He's only told Dr Wyatt and myself about that. Meredith, this is serious progress. And he has to trust you on some level if he told you about it."

"Even after I accused him of something he didn't do," Meredith noted. She looked at Cristina. "He really took that bullet for all of us, didn't he?"

"He did," Cristina smiled.

"You two can have a _big_ room in our house," Meredith declared. "I won't even make him clean the trailer."

_With every surgery comes risk. And for some patients, the risk isn't worth it; they may lose more than they gain. Sometimes, surgery isn't the only – or best – answer. It's the temporary fix that prevents their acceptance of the way things are. Then it's the surgeon who needs to put down the scalpel and explore alternative methods of relieving pain and distress, to learn when to put down the knife…and let go of the patient's life._


	7. Episode 7: Daughters

Author: shli

**Daughters**

_For a large part of our lives, particularly during adolescence and the years right after we've left the nest, our parents are, frankly, a constant annoyance. The numerous phone calls at the most inconvenient times; the horrid "gifts" that they send us and expect to be used; the uncanny way they always seem to know everything – it's a never-ending and ever-present reality of being a daughter or son. So, the primary responsibility of a "good" daughter or son is to put up with this hovering – or, as _they_ like to call it, parenting. For two very simple reasons: one, we love them; and two, failure to comply only leads to the third circle of hell of nagging._

A cold stream of water hit Owen's face, washing away the last vestiges of drowsiness. Though the dial was turned all the way towards the "H," there was no heat left – thanks to a little morning fun in the shower with Cristina that had been cut short when Cristina got paged for a heart transplant. _Damn pager_.

So, Owen was left with an hour to spare before work, a serious case of blue balls, and no hot water. However, he realized that it was probably a good thing that they'd used up all the hot water. Just thinking about their early morning delight was proving that the cold shower was a necessity for Owen. _Down, boy_, Owen thought – literally and figuratively. It wouldn't bode well for his reputation as the consummate professional if he walked into the ER with a raging hard-on.

After ridding himself of the remaining soap suds and arousing thoughts, Owen quickly ran a towel through his wet hair then secured it around his hips as he got ready for work. His mind wandered from the stack of paperwork he'd had waiting on his desk to what he was going to make Cristina for dinner that night. _Same old, same old_.

Suddenly, the sound of the phone ringing shocked him from his thoughts. For a moment, the tone disoriented him because it was neither his pager nor his cell phone. Finally, he recalled that he and Cristina had gotten a landline out of habit, though they rarely used it.

"Hello?" he answered, cradling the wireless phone against his shoulder as he slipped on a pair of jeans.

"Hello?" a confused older woman on the other side responded. Owen heard her mutter quietly to herself, "Did I dial the wrong number? No. This is the number she gave me. It'd be just like her to give me the wrong phone number…"

In a rush, Owen interrupted the self-directed dialogue. "Ma'am? May I ask who you are trying to call?"

"I'm calling for Cristina Yang. She's not answering her cell phone, so I thought I'd try her new home number. But apparently, this is not it."

"No, this is it. She's not here right now. Can I take a message?" Quickly slipping on a t-shirt, Owen then grabbed a pen and a random piece of paper.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Hello?" Owen repeated.

"Who is this?" the female caller rather curtly asked after a moment.

"Uh…This is Owen. Who is this?" he returned with caution. The woman seemed quite perturbed to hear his voice instead of Cristina's. As he waited for a response, he tugged on the last of his clothing and shoes. Walking to the fridge, he contemplated whether he had enough time to make himself some breakfast.

"Cristina's mother."

He froze with his fingers on the refrigerator handle. "Oh! Mrs. Rubenstein. I'm sorry. Um, Cristina is in the middle of surgery. Was there something you wanted me to pass along to her?" Owen could feel his heart jump to his throat and his palms start sweating. He'd faced down flying bullets and bloody carnage with calm and clarity, but the sound of his girlfriend's mother's voice flustered him incomprehensibly. Anyone who could shrink Cristina down to size and into any semblance of submission was definitely someone to be reckoned with. Cristina had looked completely drained – and extremely frazzled – after the last phone call he'd witnessed between her and her mother.

"No, it was nothing important… I'm sorry, but how do you know my daughter? Do you work at Seattle Grace?"

_And what was this stranger doing in her daughter's apartment? _ Owen could almost hear the unspoken question.

This was definitely not the first impression he'd had in mind when it came to meeting Cristina's mother. Of course, he hadn't realized that Cristina had not told her mother _anything_ about him. But from the bits and pieces he'd gathered about Cristina's relationship with her mother, he was not too surprised about the omission.

"Yes. I'm the Head of Trauma. I'm Cris – your daughter's – boyfriend."

"How long have you two been dating?"

"For a while, ma'am," intentionally being vague.

"What? How could she not tell me? Lying to her mother! Just wait till I get her on the… And you two are living together?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"But she's so messy. And she's useless in the kitchen… She hasn't scared you off with her terrible habits?" There was genuine shock in her voice.

Mrs. Rubenstein's put-down irritated Owen. "To be perfectly honest, ma'am, her ability to clean or cook has nothing to do with why I'm living with her – or why I'm in _love_ with her."

For a moment, Owen thought he'd angered the other woman with his thinly veiled chastisement and had provoked her into hanging up on him. Yet, he couldn't muster up any regrets. He didn't take too kindly to anyone criticizing Cristina in such a manner, especially her own mother.

"I believe you," she finally decided. "And call me Helen. 'Ma'am' makes me feel old."

"Helen, I'm actually leaving for work right now. I can tell Cristina to call you back when I see her." And more importantly, to warn her off that he'd told her mother that they were not only dating but also living together.

"It's fine. I will just call her cell phone again… See you soon, Owen." And she hung up.

Owen stared at the phone for a minute, all thoughts of breakfast long gone. He'd completely lost his appetite. _Did she really mean "_see" _me soon?_ An involuntary shiver of trepidation echoed through his body. If the day ever came that Helen Rubenstein stopped by for a visit, he knew that a stiff drink (or two) would be in order for him and Cristina both.

* * *

Cristina stretched her arms above her head and yawned as she walked out of the scrub room. Jackson followed closely behind.

"Great job in there, Yang. Thanks for letting me scrub in and assist."

Cristina nodded. It was still an odd feeling to treat Jackson so nicely. "Uh…you did a good job, too."

Jackson chuckled at Cristina's hesitant compliment. "Talk to you later," he said, looking past her shoulder and directing her attention backward.

"Yeah, sure," she said distractedly as she faced Meredith. "Hey! Did you see me in my cardio goddess glory in there?"

Meredith laughed. "Yeah. Caught the last bit of it after my surgery."

Cristina reminisced. "There's nothing like holding a heart in your hands and feeling it start beating again. Nothing. Okay… maybe a sex marathon with Owen. He's like a caveman…but with finesse. It's hot."

"Maybe you'll get that chance in Paris," Meredith replied coyly.

"Huh…maybe. It would make for a damn good honeymoon activity, that's for sure. Anyway, I should probably call my mother back."

"Oh, is that's who was making your phone go off every five minutes?" During the surgery, Cristina had finally told one of the nurses to put her phone on silent after the sixth time it went off.

"Probably a life and death situation over fabric swatches. I should get this over with…" Cristina sighed as she took out her cell phone.

Meredith stopped the motion by placing a hand on Cristina's wrist. "Speaking of mothers…" Her voice drifted off, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

Cristina stared. "No…"

"Yes."

"Oh my god! Congratulations!" Cristina pulled her friend close and hugged her. She even danced a little in excitement, though she'd never admit it.

Meredith laughed while Cristina put a hand on Meredith's stomach. There was no telltale sign yet, but Cristina was convinced that she could feel the life growing inside. "Okay, this could probably be as awesome as holding a heart in your hand. Does Derek know?"

"Yes. But I told him that he couldn't tell anyone until I told you. You're going to be a godmother."

"And you're going to be a mother. Mer, I'm so happy for you. And I guess for Derek, too." She crouched down and spoke to the growing fetus. "Don't worry, McBaby, I'll make sure that you turn out right."

"Hey!" Meredith interjected indignantly.

"Right. Like you had a great role model." Cristina was about to roll her eyes when she caught the shadow of doubt and fear cross her friend's face. "I'm just kidding, Mer. You'll be fine. You and the baby. I promise." She gave Meredith's wrist a reassuring squeeze.

The glimmer of hope returned to Meredith's eyes. She found solace in Cristina's optimism and support.

"Oh crap… my mother's calling again. I have to get this or else I'll never hear the end of it." She hugged Meredith again. "Congrats, mama bear." Pressing the phone to her ear, Cristina headed toward Teddy's office to update her on the surgery. "Yes, mother?"

* * *

Walking toward the Chief's office, Meredith's happiness was still evident on her face. She was surprised that no one had come up to her and checked to see if she was okay. It wasn't as though she had a reputation for being so bright and shiny.

Her smile faltered briefly when she walked across the catwalk. The fear and devastation over seeing Derek getting shot still resonated within her even after all this time. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach.

"Meredith!"

Meredith turned around to see Jackson running after her. She stopped and waited for him to reach her. When he'd caught up to her, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. Um… I just had a free minute, and I was wondering… uh…" Jackson looked down at the ground, and there was a faint blush creeping into his cheeks.

"You were wondering…" She couldn't figure out why he was so nervous.

"Uh… I was wondering how Lexie was doing." He still couldn't meet Meredith's gaze.

Meredith covered her shock – and subsequent awkward pause – by clearing her throat. Though she had gotten a glimpse of Jackson's growing affection for Lexie here and there, she hadn't realized that he'd cared this much. It seemed as though her sister had her share of male attention these days, what with Alex, Mark, _and_ Jackson. It was times like these that Meredith was glad she was out of the dating world and happily Post-It married.

"She's doing better. Being away from where the shooting happened has helped. Dr. Wyatt recommended an outside trauma counseling specialist, and Lexie's been seeing him regularly."

"That's good, that's good. Do you think she's up for visitors?"

"My house is not an institution, Jackson. April's stopped by a couple times. You're more than welcome to come by later." Meredith saw him hesitate and realized the reason behind his hesitation. She continued, "Alex is on-call tonight."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll do that." Jackson gave Meredith a grateful smile and ran off, leaving her to contemplate the idea of Jackson with Lexie. Though she didn't want Alex hurt, she had to admit that she definitely wasn't against the idea. In fact, now that she'd thought about it, she was surprised that it hadn't happened sooner.

* * *

When Owen finally saw Cristina after having been sidetracked by the incoming trauma in the pit for over an hour, he had pretty much accepted that Cristina's mother had beaten him to the punch in reaching Cristina. This was confirmed with the frantic look in Cristina's eyes as she approached him. Apparently, she'd been looking for him just as intently.

Before he could even open his mouth to speak, she exclaimed, "You spoke to my mother?" Owen glanced around, seeing if they'd drawn anyone's attention. Thankfully, the corridor was mostly empty. But just in case, Owen led Cristina into an empty supply closet.

The change in setting didn't stop her. "What did you tell my mother? She's been talking my ear off about how I don't tell her anything. And if it weren't for Teddy, I'd _still _be talking to her."

"Wait, what does Teddy have anything to do with this?"

"I was on my way to her office when I called. I kept trying to hang up, but I just couldn't. That would just make her call me back and yell at me for hanging up on her. So, finally, Teddy took the phone and told her that I needed to save someone's life and hung up on her for me."

Owen was impressed. Of course, Teddy wasn't exactly invested in being liked by Cristina's mother, so she had an advantage. "What did she say?"

"That she thought _her _mom talked a lot, but mine had hers beat."

"No, what did your mother say?"

"Oh. That she can't believe I didn't tell her about you or the new place. I think she was more upset about the new apartment. She was going on and on about how I probably picked clashing colors and hopelessly messed up the feng shui."

"That's good." Cristina raised a quizzical eyebrow. Owen qualified, "Not the rambling on about the apartment part, obviously. But I'm glad that she wasn't upset over the idea of you and me."

"Why would she be?"

"I don't know… You didn't tell her about me, which is fine, but I thought…"

"Owen, I don't tell my mother what goes on in my life because she's a meddler. She's a nosy, annoying, irrational meddler who drives me crazy. And the less she knows, the better things are; so, I didn't tell her about you. The last time I called her was to tell her that I was okay after the shooting. We are not like you and your mom. We don't talk every week, we don't visit each other multiple times in a month. I call her for big things, like shootings or pregnancies…or weddings. Though, I don't know if I'm going to make that mistake again."

"What mistake?"

"Letting her know that I'm getting married. That didn't turn out so well the last time. When we get married, I do _not _want to end up with a church wedding and a white frilly dress. No freakin' way. Did I mention the no eyebrows?"

Owen's heart was racing. He didn't think Cristina realized that she'd just said "when" they got married. When. Not if. As if it was part of their future plan.

He nodded in reply, brushing past the slip of the tongue. The last thing he wanted to do was to frighten her off over the idea.

"No, I think I'm going the courthouse route this time. Just quick and dirty. You, me, Meredith, and the judge. And I guess you could invite Derek. And your mom. Just not my mom. Though, she'd probably force us to have some big fancy wedding afterward, but at least I'd have already done it my way. What do you think?"

"I like quick and dirty. In fact, I can give you some quick and dirty now…" he murmured, stepping closer to nuzzle her neck.

She laughed and placed her hands on his chest. "Mmm… Rain check? I've got to check on Teddy's post-ops. But hold that thought till the end of my shift. Then, I'll show _you _quick and dirty – or at least dirty." And just to emphasize that promise, she nipped his ear.

"I've been holding the same thought since this morning. I don't know how much longer I can wait."

"Just a little bit longer… It'll be worth it." She ran her finger down his chest, stopping just short of the waistband of his scrubs.

"You really are the devil."

She simply smiled then took a step back. Owen subtly shifted his position to hide the evidence of Cristina's stimulating effect on him.

"Did you come looking for me just to torture me?" Owen asked.

"No. I also wanted to tell you that Meredith's pregnant. And since I'm godmother, you're a shoo-in for godfather. Well, you're up against Mark, but he's a manwhore. Though, Derek knows that he really wants kids after that whole lil' Sloan thing."

"Well, I want kids, too." After a pause, he added, "Eventually." He didn't want to pressure her.

"_I _know that, but _Derek _doesn't. Go get all excited and congratulate Derek on the good news. It'll give you the advantage. Make sure to slip in that you love kids. I don't want to be on Team Godparents with Mark."

Owen stifled a chuckle. He loved how Cristina could turn almost everything into some sort of competition.

"What are you still doing here? Go!" she said, giving him a gentle shove in the direction of Derek's office. "Beat Mark."

"Okay, okay. I'm going."

"Do me proud, Hunt!" she called after him, wondering how she could distract Mark for a while longer and keep him from hearing the news. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She needed to find Callie.

* * *

"Hey, what's going on? Why are you two hugging?" Mark asked as he walked into Derek's office.

Owen and Derek pulled apart. "Hunt's just offering me his congratulations."

"For what? Launching your own hair product line?"

"Haha, very funny. No… Meredith's pregnant."

Mark's jaw dropped. For a fleeting moment, a wave of sadness washed over him as he thought about the grandson he'd had to give up. But he pushed it aside. "That's great news. So, you finally knocked her up. Told you that swirl trick worked."

Derek rolled his eyes, and Owen coughed.

"Hey, wait a minute," Mark continued. "How did Hunt find out first? I've been your friend for much longer. What happened to seniority rules?"

"Cristina told me," Owen explained.

"That's not fair! I don't have the inside scoop anymore. I mean, with Lexie, she was in on the latest gossip. Most of the time. I've got Torres, but she's been too busy with her baby drama with Robbins. Actually, I would've gotten here much sooner if it hadn't been for Torres. She thought I'd paged her for a consult – which I didn't. And somehow, she ended up crying about how she and Robbins were really broken up this time. How she wanted to be with Robbins but she also really wanted a baby. It never ends. All day and all night. Back at the apartment and here. Hunt, you were smart to move. It's driving me insane."

Derek let his old friend ramble on about his problems. He was used to it. Somehow the topic of any conversation always ended up being about Mark in some way.

"I wonder if Torres is going to start considering getting a sperm donor…" Mark trailed off, giving serious thought to the idea.

"Please tell me you're not considering offering up your services," Derek replied.

"I've got some premium DNA. Torres would be so lucky."

Owen scoffed at Mark's arrogance. Personally, he would be concerned more about another three-letter acronym when it came to Mark Sloan: STD. But he kept silent.

"Right," Derek said, shaking his head.

Derek's sarcasm didn't faze Mark in the least. "But if donating my swimmers means that I have to survive the pregnancy hormones… Oh man, and with Callie, you just know that those mood swings would be insane. She's already a little, you know…" Mark gestured instability with his hands. "…emotional."

"Thank you for the words of comfort."

"Oh, right. I'm sure Meredith won't go all psycho on you." But Mark's tone was far from convincing.

Derek was not blind to Meredith's past. If anything, it showed her to be more emotionally unstable than Callie ever was. She hadn't earned her reputation for being dark and twisty over nothing. But since they'd gotten married, she'd seemed to have put all that baggage far behind her.

Owen chimed in. "I'm sure Cristina can help in that department. They speak the same language. And she's taking the godmother business quite seriously."

"Really?"

Owen shot Mark a scathing look.

"What?" Mark asked, defensively. "Yang doesn't seem like the cuddly, baby type. Hell, she doesn't even seem like the cuddly, pet type."

"You'd be surprised." Owen didn't offer up anything more. Unlike Mark, he believed in keeping private conversations private.

Even Derek looked at Owen with a hint of disbelief in his expression. Then again, he'd never thought Meredith would end up wanting children. So, it wasn't too much of a shocker that the other twisted sister would change her mind as well.

"What exactly _is _the cuddly, baby type?" Derek asked Mark. "You're not cuddly, but you like babies."

"Correction. I like babies from my gene pool. But fine, I get your point." Mark crossed his arms and leaned against the desk, positioning himself closer to Derek. "So, who's going to be the godfather?"

Derek considered the two men sitting in his office. It was a good question. Who _was _going to be the baby's godfather? Owen definitely had the better moral compass and sense of responsibility, but Mark had demonstrated quite clearly that he was ready – or at least willing to be ready – for parenthood.

"Both of you."

"I'd be honored," Owen replied at the same time that Mark said, "That's cheating." Hearing Owen's response, Mark remedied his answer. "Of course I'd be honored. If this kid is a boy, Hunt can teach all the boring stuff, like camping or baseball or manners. But he's going to need me to know how to get the ladies…and how to keep them coming back for more."

Derek shuddered at the thought of having a mini-Mark Sloan for a son and desperately hoped for a daughter.

* * *

Meanwhile, the mother of Derek's future daughter – or son – went home to briefly check in on her sister. She and the others had arranged it so that Lexie was never by herself for too long. When she entered the house, Meredith spied Lexie looking through the cupboards in the kitchen.

"Need help finding something?" Meredith asked as she hung her bag and coat over the back of a chair.

"No, I've got it." Lexie showed the cans of chicken broth that were in her hands and closed the cupboard doors.

"What are you making?" Meredith could see pieces of thawed boneless chicken breast, a bowl of washed vegetables, and a bag of spiral pasta.

"I'm attempting to make chicken soup the way that my mom did. But I can't remember the exact recipe, and I don't have all the ingredients. But I'm making do… without the right ingredients… and without my mother." A tear slid down her cheek as she spoke the last part of the sentence.

Meredith gently guided Lexie to the chair, never letting go of Lexie's hand as they sat down. A soft sob escaped Lexie's lips. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm used to being able to call my mother in times like these. She would've known what to do."

Meredith nodded. "Your mom was a fantastic mother, Lexie. And I hope that I will be more like her than my own mother when it comes to raising my child."

Lexie looked up, then at Meredith's stomach, and then back up again. "You're pregnant?"

"Yes. And I'm terrified. I didn't have the model mother when I was growing up. Ellis Grey was always more of a surgeon than a parent. But from I knew of Susan… She put family first. She was so much of a mother that she mothered the grown daughter from her husband's previous marriage." Meredith patted Lexie's hand. "I see her in you, Lexie. You have the same caring nature, and I'm going to need your help in raising this child. To do things like make her chicken noodle soup from scratch when she's feeling down. Because we all know that I'd just end up making him or her feel worse with food poisoning."

The corners of Lexie's lips turned upward. "Yeah… Um, I haven't cut the vegetables yet. Want to help me?"

"Sure." Meredith rolled up her sleeves and got up from the table, following Lexie to the kitchen counter. "How should I cut these?" she asked, gesturing towards the large carrots on top of the pile of veggies with her knife.

"Here, let me show you." She carefully took the knife out of Meredith's hand and placed a carrot on the cutting board. "Mom liked to dice them into smaller pieces so that they'd cook faster and be softer. Like this." She demonstrated the technique and then handed the knife back to Meredith. After Lexie checked to make sure that Meredith was cutting it properly, she went back to work on the rest of the soup's components.

Side by side, the two of them worked in comfortable silence, punctuated with the sound of rhythmic chopping coming from Meredith's knife. Just as Meredith was nearing the last of the vegetables that needed to be diced, she heard the doorbell ring.

"I'll get it," Meredith said, setting down the knife and wiping her hands on the apron that she'd wrapped around her waist. She glanced down at her watch and noted the guest's punctuality. Her instincts had been right; the guy clearly had feelings for Lexie.

Meredith let Jackson in with a soft hello. After closing the door behind him, she simultaneously untied the apron strings behind her back and led Jackson to the kitchen.

"Hey, Lexie. Jackson's here to see you. I've got to get back to work, but why don't you let him help you finish chopping? I'll see you later, and we can have chicken noodle soup for dinner." With an encouraging nod to Jackson, she waved him to take the place she'd vacated next to Lexie, who was so focused on making sure everything was right that she barely registered the switch.

"Um, what do you want me to do?" Jackson asked, washing his hands then moving to stand next to Lexie.

Knowing that her sister was in good hands, Meredith quietly let herself out and went back to work.

* * *

On the other side of town, Mark had just gotten home after having taken a detour to run an errand. Mere minutes after having finished carrying the last of the items into his apartment, Callie stormed in through the open door and took a seat on his couch without so much as a greeting. As was the case earlier in the day, there were tears streaming down her face.

Mark grabbed the nearby box of Kleenex – a necessity he'd bought in the past weeks just for occasions such as these – and handed it to her. Callie blew loudly into the tissue then promptly burst out into a fresh batch of tears. Mark shut the door then took a seat beside her.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"More like hell. Arizona and I broke up," she cried.

"I know, you told me earlier today."

"No, we had make-up sex afterwards." She hiccupped. "We're _really _broken up this time."

"_Really really _broken up?"

"Yes! I just said that!"

"Sorry, I had to make sure. What happened?"

"I was _this_ close to convincing myself that being with Arizona would be enough. But then I heard that Meredith was pregnant, and my womb started aching again."

Mark got up to get Callie a glass of water. At the rate she was crying – and blowing her nose, she was going to get dehydrated. When Mark handed her the glass of water, she'd already gone through another two Kleenexes.

"Thanks… Mark, what am I going to do? I want a baby so badly. I've always dreamed of being a mother. I don't mean right now. I know that I can't handle raising a baby right now, but I can't be in a relationship where that will never happen. I want to be pregnant. I want to get fat. I want to feel something kicking inside me. I want to change poopy diapers and rock my baby to sleep at night."

"Well, I can help with the last part of that."

"What? Ew, Mark, I am not rocking you to sleep at night."

"No, Torres. I'm talking about this." Mark removed the loosely fitted lid of the cardboard box he'd placed down on the coffee table earlier. He reached in and pulled out a tiny kitten that fit in the palm of his hand. It mewed sleepily. "Here," he said, transferring the kitten into Callie's arms.

"Oh my god, Mark. You didn't." Callie's heart melted as she stroked the soft fur of the kitten's head.

"Obviously, I did. And I bought you everything you need: a litter box, a bed, a collar, toys, cat food, and so on." Mark pointed to the large bags that were sitting near his front door. "It's a boy, by the way."

"Thank you, Mark." Callie looked at Mark with an adoration that made him shift awkwardly in his seat.

"Yeah, it wasn't a big deal. I was going to get you a rabbit, but they're boring. All they do is eat and poop. I thought about getting you a puppy, but neither of us are home enough to train one. So, I got you a cat… Now, you can be a cat lady like Addison."

"Seriously. Thank you." Callie gave Mark a peck on the cheek then rested her head on his shoulder.

"So, what are you going call him?" He absentmindedly rubbed Callie's arm in a soothing motion, inadvertently mimicking Callie's petting of the kitten.

"I think I'm going to call him… McSteamy."

* * *

Alex barreled through the front door under a dark cloud. He was tempted to slam the door, but he knew that in his current state, he'd probably break the door of its hinges, and Meredith would kill him. Thanks to the ups and downs of Arizona's personal life – at the moment, it was most definitely down – he had gotten kicked off of her service, all because he and Callie had once slept together. He'd tried to tell her that it was before she'd even met Callie, so it didn't count, but it was useless. Arizona was being completely unreasonable. She was mad, and everyone was going to get a taste of it – except her patients. Somehow, she could still tack on a bright smile whenever she went in to see the kids and preach about magic and fairies – or whatever crap she usually sold them.

In his preoccupation over his shitty day at work, Alex didn't notice the rock music playing or the muffled sound of voices coming from the kitchen. It was only when he glimpsed movement in the kitchen that he realized that someone else was in the house and stopped in his tracks.

From his hidden vantage point, Alex could see Jackson and Lexie dancing and cooking in the kitchen. Judging from splotches of batter on Jackson's shirt and in Lexie's hair, Alex could only assume that they'd had an accident with the electric beater – and said accident had sent them into a fit of giggles.

His first instinct was to go in there and open a can of whoop ass on Jackson for moving in on his girl. But the sound of Lexie's laughter made him freeze in place. He hadn't heard that sound in ages. He'd barely seen her crack a smile since the shooting. But now, she looked happy – genuinely happy and enjoying herself.

The surge of anger left Alex's body, replaced by the sense of bittersweet. Lexie deserved more than he could give her. He'd been so wrapped up in his recovery to operational status and trying not to think about Izzie that he'd missed the first signs of something being wrong with Lexie. And even then, he'd been the last to know. From the moment she'd stepped out of her session with Dr. Wyatt, she'd been distant with him. And how could he blame her? He'd cried out another woman's name when he thought he was dying – a fact that Lexie had revealed to him in the one therapy session he'd reluctantly attended so that she could alleviate some of her guilt over the shooting. It didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

So, Alex did as he had once told Izzie in the locker room: he let go. He let go of the jealousy and the primitive desire to protect his territory because Lexie wasn't his. In truth, he didn't know if she ever was. With an accepting glance at the oblivious pair, Alex headed up the stairs for the much-needed solace of his room where he could be alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Owen had something much less depressing on his mind as he instructed his Bluetooth to call Cristina. She picked up on the first ring.

"Where are you? What happened to holding that thought till I got home? If you don't get here soon, I'm going to fall asleep."

Owen chuckled. "Sorry, I'll be home soon. I just had to stop by my mother's."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing like that. Just talking to your mother made me realize that it'd been a while since I visited my mom. It was a last-minute detour."

"Is there any chance she sent you home with food?"

Cristina knew his mother well. "Yes. There's eggplant parmesan, spaghetti and meatballs, pear and walnut salad, and cornbread."

"Okay, you're forgiven. Hurry up, I'm starving."

Owen smiled. He could almost see her salivating in anticipation. "For the food? Or for me?"

The questions elicited a lusty chuckle out of Cristina. "Both."

"All right, I'll see you in a few minutes. Bye."

Unbeknownst to Cristina, the abundance of food wasn't all that Sarah Hunt had sent her son off with. No, this other item was not in a plastic Tupperware container or a Ziploc bag. It was enclosed in a square-shaped satin black box sitting securely in the deep pocket of Owen's signature jacket.

_"Mom, there's another reason why I came by for a visit…"_

_"Yes, Owen?" Sarah Hunt lips transformed into a knowing smile. _

_"I was wondering if I could have grandmother's ring—"_

_No sooner had he uttered the words, Sarah Hunt was reaching into a nearby drawer and placing the item in question into his hands._

_Owen's mouth was agape. "How did you know that I was going to ask you for it?"_

_Sarah patted her son's hands. "A mother always knows."_

And he believed it.

_We never truly understand the difficulty of being a parent until we become one. It's a challenge that requires unconditional love, superhuman patience, and unyielding faith – plus a pinch of insanity. The crying, the temper tantrums, the stress, the sleep deprivation, the emission of body fluids – no one _wants _it, but they're all part of this package deal called parenthood, which comes in different guises. Whether our "children" are of the human kind or non-human kind, it's a decision that both gives our existence new meaning and scares the hell out of us. Because parenthood marks the defining moment where we begin to build a family._


	8. Episode 8: Surface Tension

By hopecrowe

_Tension headaches. Tension pneumothorax. Stress and tension. Slowly over the course of our lives, tension builds up. In our muscles, in our lives…and every now and then a good massage therapist or roll in the hay can relieve that tension for a few moments. But it just starts to build up again. Relief is only temporary. But when the tension comes back, it just builds up on top of itself more and more as time goes on…_

"Have you seen my keys? They're not by the door where I usually throw them..." Cristina was turning over seat cushions in the living room and strode back into the bedroom in the hopes of finding her lost keys.

"No…" Owen ran out from the bathroom in his boxers anxiously, then quickly tried to act slightly more casual. "Are you sure they aren't out in the living room? That's where you always end up finding them." As he suggested this, Owen sidled over to his sock drawer and leaned against the dresser, physically blocking Cristina from the one thing he did not want her finding just yet. Cristina scrunched her face, deep in thought.

"Yeah, I guess it's probably out there…somewhere." She furrowed her brow at him as he stood leaning against the dresser. "I thought the shower was running. Why aren't you wet?"

"Oh, I was just about to hop in, but I heard you looking for the keys so I decided to help."

"And what a load of help you are," she mocked, slowly strolling over to him with a small grin on her face. "Just leaning against that dresser in some GQ pose won't help me find my keys, you know." She put her arms around him and laughed, putting a small kiss on his nose. Owen felt his pulse throbbing in his ears. Keeping the ring hidden from Cristina was going to give him a heart attack. She sighed and looked past him at the dresser. A second later, she let out a small exclamation. "Oh!"

"What? What?" Owen asked wildly. He snapped his head around, foolishly thinking she may have seen the ring even though it would be quite impossible for her to see a ring that was in a box buried under several clean socks, in a drawer that was very much closed.

"I just remembered the keys are still in my bag. You used your key to let us in last night."

"Oh…right," Owen sighed. "Well, I'm going to get in the shower then. I'll see you at work."

"Okay, and I'll meet you at Joe's for Derek's party tonight. Bye." She placed a hand on his chest and put a small, soft kiss on his cheek before leaving. Owen pulled her closer as she moved to leave and planted his lips on hers much more passionately. He pulled away a moment later and smiled as Cristina looked slightly dazed, yet extremely happy. She left the room, but Owen waited until he heard the apartment door close before deeming it safe to go back in the shower.

Cristina stood next to Mark at the nurse's station, signing off on some charts in silence. Finally, Mark turned to face her and leaned on his elbow.

"I think Callie's flying over the cuckoo's nest." Cristina looked up in confusion.

"You're talking to me about this because…"

"You're her friend. Or, well…roommate. Ex-roommate. Whatever. Who else can I talk to about it since it obviously can't be Robbins?"

"Okay… What's she doing that so bad? She just had a break up. She's allowed to do that eat obscene amounts of sugary crap and watch old movies until she can recite them."

"That would be normal. I wouldn't be worried if she was doing all that. But instead she's got this inappropriately intense relationship developing with the kitten I got her." Cristina just raised her eyebrow with a smirk. "You know what I mean… She refuses to leave it alone except for work. It's a cat. It needs space. I bet he feels smothered."

"Just…make her get out tonight. Isn't she going to Derek's birthday thing?"

"I asked her…she said something about watching _Lost_ with McSteamy."

"Referring to yourself in the third person now?"

"Oh…" Mark rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "You see, she named the _cat_ McSteamy."

"Oh boy," Cristina grabbed her chart and started walking, Mark following behind her. "She _is_ going crazy. Just make sure she comes to the party tonight. Get some alcohol in her. She'll remember how much she misses that stuff and get back to normal. Now, I've got work to do. Go gossip with your boyfriend." Mark stopped walking as Cristina continued, with her face buried in her chart.

"Yang, I just remembered why I never talk to you."

Lexie was just admiring the lasagna she had pulled out of the oven when she heard the doorbell ring. Expecting Meredith frantically searching for something for the birthday party, her breath caught in her throat when she saw Jackson instead, wearing a polo shirt that brought out his eyes. She cleared her throat and looked up at him.

"Hi," she said, an irrepressible smile pulling at her face.

"Hey…" Jackson shoved his hands in his pockets and peered inside. "I just thought I'd come over and check on you. See if you wanted a ride to the party tonight. I think I was only invited because of…" He stopped himself, realizing that bringing up the day of the shooting was a bad idea. "Well, anyway, did you want a ride?"

"Oh…well, I wasn't going to go, actually. I don't want everyone standing around and asking me how I am. Plus, I shouldn't be drinking either. Derek said he didn't mind, of course. So I—oh, I'm sorry, come in." Lexie smacked her head lightly and moved to the side to let him in.

"Thanks."

"I actually just finished making some lasagna, if… You want a piece before you go?" Lexie asked, offering Jackson a seat at the kitchen table.

"Yeah…sure. Sounds great." Jackson said, accepting the seat. It was awkwardly familiar to be sitting and eating with Lexie, it was awkward in a way too—as if they were both consciously avoiding something very obvious.

Cristina and Meredith burst into the apartment and ran quickly to the bedroom.

"Cristina, we've got five minutes!" Meredith called, pulling at drawers and cushions as Cristina did the same.

"I can't believe this! I have absolutely no idea where it is."

"If we don't leave for Joe's in two minutes, Derek's going to be wondering why his wife decided to not show up to his surprise party. I gave you the cufflinks to hide from him, not _us_."

"Alright, alright, I said I was sorry, right? Less talking, more looking!" Cristina yelled, her voice muffled by the closet she had run into.

"I'm just going to check all the dressers, okay?"

"Fine, whatever!" Meredith pulled out the first drawer of the dresser to find socks. She felt around blindly until she felt a small box that felt the same size as the box of cufflinks she had gotten. She pulled out a small box and sighed with relief. She was about to call Cristina off the hunt, when she realized her box had been red—this was blue. Confused, she couldn't help but open the box to see a diamond ring. Her eyes grew wide and she felt her mouth hang open. She heard Cristina groan from the living room and she quickly snapped the box shut and threw it back under the socks.

"Let's go." Meredith said simply, walking out of the bedroom and into the living room, grabbing Cristina as they strode to the front door.

"What?" she checked her watch. "Yeah…I'll come by and look in a bit."

"Whatever. It's a birthday…I'm already carrying his child. We'll have some dirty sex tonight, and he'll be happy."

"Sex is becoming an occasion now? You really are married," Cristina snorted as Meredith lightly shoved her out the door, her heart still pounding at the shock of seeing a diamond ring hidden in Cristina's apartment.

Lexie and Jackson were both laughing as they polished off the cookie dough ice cream that had recently been pulled from the freezer.

"You sure you don't mind missing the party?"

"Nah…it's not like I'm close with him or anything. And," Jackson leaned in ever so slightly. "I think I had more fun here anyway." Lexie smiled and bit her lip. A moment later, she made to take their plates and walked them over to the sink.

"Let me help you with that…" Jackson said, taking the dishes from her hands.

"Thanks, but…I'm…you know, doing better," she said, placing the leftover lasagna in some Tupperware. "You don't have to worry."

"Not worrying, just…concerned, no—interested. Very interested." A piece balanced on Lexie's spatula as Jackson's arm brushed hers while reaching for another glass to put in the sink. A shock went through her skin, and the piece flopped back into the pan.

"Whoa…hey," Jackson said, laughing and grabbing her arm. The silence somehow pierced them and they looked up at each other. Jackson didn't move his hand and Lexie's breath was quickening with each second of his touch. "I'm glad to hear you're…feeling better."

"I…yeah. Me too. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For looking out for me. I know…well, everyone was so wrapped up in their own stuff. I don't blame them, it was horrible for everyone. But you…you were looking out for me. And I don't even know why since…we had never gotten close."

"Well I…" Jackson gulped and fought the urge to swoop in and kiss her. Kiss her so she knew. But he fought his impulses and finally stepped back, removing his hand. "I should get going, actually."

"Oh, uh, okay…" Lexie stammered, caught off-guard by his sudden urge to leave. Jackson quickly grabbed his keys and stepped out the door. He had just stepped out when Lexie called out to him. "I'm glad you came by."

Jackson just looked back at her, hands in his pockets, and cocked his head to the side. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowing his words. "Thanks again for the lasagna."

Lexie gave him a small wave and he turned, continuing back to the driveway.

"Oh, I swear I taught McSteamy a trick last night!" Callie said, her face shining.

"You know, it's starting to get weird that it has my little nickname thing."

"Ready? Ready? Okay, watch." Callie swiveled her hand up and to the right, and the cat simply watched her hand as if it might be something that would taste nice if it got close enough. Her eyes narrowed, and she dropped her hand, frustrated.

"Nice trick," Mark scoffed.

"Seriously. Yesterday I did that, and he sat down!"

"Torres…"

"What? He did!"

"That wasn't what I was going to say…" Mark straightened up and looked at Callie nuzzling her face up into the kitten's tiny nose. "Have you left the apartment since I gave you the cat? Besides work?"

"Um…well, I went to that thing. Oh wait, that was the week before. Well…whatever, it's not a big deal. He's just a baby. He needs love and company…like me."

"He's a cat. I got it for you specifically because you can leave them alone at home sometimes. Come on." He stood up and reached out for her hand. Callie eyed it uncertainly and looked up, biting her lip.

"But…we were going to watch _Lost_ tonight."

"Torres, get up. You're going to get up and put on a dress. Then, we're going to go to Derek's birthday party."

"Oh, I forgot that was today."

"Of course you did, because you're turning into creepy cat lady. And you're still too young and hot for that."

"Fine." Callie scowled and walked off to her room. The kitten turned and looked at Mark, cocking its tiny head to the side. Mark made a face in return.

"What? She needs to get out. I'm sorry!"

Cristina sat at the bar next to Meredith, sipping on her usual vodka tonic.

"So, how much does it suck to be in a bar and not be able to drink?" Cristina asked, smirking.

"You know I love alcohol, but when this," Meredith touched her belly lightly "is the reason why you can't drink. It's really not so terrible."

"Huh," Cristina snorted lightly. "You've _so _gone soft…" But a small smile stayed on Cristina's mouth.

"Hey you," a deep voice said, peeking around Cristina's right shoulder and kissing the crook of her neck. Cristina laughed at the tickle of his beard.

"Hey," she turned to face him and gave him a kiss. "Missed you today."

"ER was insane today." He looked past Cristina. "Meredith." Owen nodded at her.

"Hi. Glad you could come. Derek's over there." She motioned to a table on the other side of the bar where Mark was passing out shots to Derek, Callie, and whoever else happened to be around.

"Ah, pardon me, ladies. I have to buy birthday boy a drink." He gave Cristina another kiss and walked over to the raucous group on the other side of the bar.

Alex let out a small burp after finishing his second beer. He checked his watch. It wasn't as though he had made plans to meet Lexie there, but he had expected her to show up, being the sister-in-law of the birthday boy and all. He signaled Joe for another beer with the raising of a finger. Alex scanned the room, this time looking for Jackson, but he was not in the crowded bar either. His absence would have been less conspicuous, as he had no real ties to Derek, had it not been for the fact that Alex overheard him telling April he would be here tonight. Alex checked his watch one last time. It was becoming clear that Lexie was not going to coming…and who she was with.

He wasn't sure why he was holding on to her at this point. Maybe it was for some sense of normalcy. But, he supposed, he had never been good at normal. He had never really been good at all until Izzie. The thought of her name stung deep in his chest. He wasn't over her, and he wasn't sure that he ever would be. As much as he tried to remind himself that it was ultimately he who sent her away, it didn't make it hurt any less. It wasn't fair to pretend to do…whatever it was he was doing…with Lexie when he was still so lost. He needed time to process his last year; he'd gotten married, divorced, and shot over the span of just a few months. As he picked up his next beer from the bar and took a sip, his heart felt considerably lighter.

"Bathroom break…hold my seat." Meredith nodded vaguely in response as Cristina walked off into the crowd. Meredith quickly moved over to Owen once she saw Cristina had entered the bathroom. She didn't have much time.

"Owen, can I talk to you for a second?" Meredith asked, motioning to a spot by the wall that was quieter.

"Sure," Owen excused himself from the group and walked over with her, nursing his beer. "Alright then, what have I done this time?" It was a joke and it wasn't, but he said it with a laugh as to smooth things over.

"Well…apparently you got a ring." Owen's eyes grew wide and he quickly looked around to look for Cristina.

"How—"

"She's in the bathroom. And no, she doesn't know."

"How do _you_ know?"

"Well…I found it when we were searching your place for Derek's present." Owen leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

"So I guess you think I'm pressuring her or something."

"No, actually…" Meredith replied, in a tone that was a mix of defensive and sheepish.

"Please don't tell Cristina."

"I won't." and Owen relaxed ever so slightly. "All I wanted to say was that… Look, I want her moment to be special and I…I have faith that you can provide it." Meredith gave him a small pat on the shoulder, and Owen smiled weakly, his nerves still pulsing.

"Thanks for saving my seat," Cristina said sarcastically, glaring at Meredith. Owen and Meredith shared a look that lasted just a second too long, and Cristina's brow furrowed in confusion as she glanced between the two of them. "What?"

"Oh…nothing," Meredith said, waving her hand lightly. "I'm trying to see if maybe _Owen _ remembers where you hid the cufflinks I got Derek."

"Which I don't," Owen added, shrugging.

"The search continues." Meredith sighed. "I'm going to go make sure my husband isn't so drunk that I have to clean his vomit all night. I puke enough as it is." Cristina and Owen both made faces of disgust as Meredith turned and left.

Owen smiled as Cristina took his beer and took a long sip, but he was lost in his own thoughts. This could be the rest of their life—her frantically searching for her keys, her stealing sips of his beer, her giving him warm smiles that she never let the rest of the world see…This was really happening. And he had as good as gotten the only real blessing that would matter to Cristina. Now all that was left was to propose in the most perfect way possible.

Owen's smile faded a bit as his jaw tensed. The pressure was on.

_Surface tension. Sexual tension. Tension isn't _always_ a bad thing. It can keep us on our toes, it can force us to face feelings for someone else, or it can just keep us from going places where we know that we shouldn't. Tension can keep you from falling flat on your face, but sometimes it can lead to a dangerous build up of pressure. And the only way to relieve tension? Pop the lid and hope it doesn't all explode in your face._


	9. Episode 9: The Secret's In The Telling

Author: JenniFromtheBlock

_It's a hard thing to keep a secret from someone, especially when it is someone you love, and most especially when the secret is something exciting. It's natural to want to share the good stuff as soon as possible. Deciding the where and when and how to share can be the toughest part of all. _

Meredith slid recklessly into the chair across from Owen, making it squeak as she plunked down her cup of coffee on the cafeteria table. He looked up from his paperwork in surprise.

"So what's your plan?" She asked, looking around to make sure they could talk without being overheard.

"My plan?"

"Mmmhmm. Your plan."

Owen chewed and swallowed. "Uh…I was thinking of finishing this sandwich and going back to my office." _So much for my quick lunch,_ he thought.

"No! Your plan with Cristina. You know. The ring!" At the mention of his grandmother's ring, Owen's eyes darted round them to make sure Cristina was nowhere nearby. He leaned in to Meredith and whispered.

"I don't have a plan yet. And you need to control yourself because I'm not asking until I know we're both ready, so you had better not give it away."

"I know, I won't. But I'm excited."

"So am I," he answered, "but you pressuring me is freaking me out a little. Now I'm stressed that I won't give her that perfect moment you keep talking about."

"Yeah, speaking of that, don't do anything with hearts and flowers. Nothing Valentine-y. She's going to think that's corny. No rose petals and whatever."

"No hearts and flowers. Got it."

"And no stuffed animals. She'll hate that."

"So you're saying I shouldn't take her to a carnival to try to win her a giant teddy bear?" He asked innocently, with a grin. She made a face at him. "Don't worry. I know not to do stuffed animals. No stuffed animals, no giant bouquets, no proposal on the big screen at the ballpark, no banners from airplanes. I'm not an idiot."

"Okay, good."

"Thanks for your confidence in me, though."

Meredith sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that now that I know, I want her to have that special moment that she never had before."

Owen cocked his head in curiosity but didn't say anything. He knew Cristina had been engaged, but wondered what was so wrong about the previous proposal that made it less than special. He wished he knew so that he could be sure not to repeat it.

Meredith tapped her fingers on the side of the coffee cup, thinking. "There is one other thing."

"What? Don't hide the ring in the dessert?"

"Oh, good God, don't do that. That's just ridiculous. And unsanitary."

"I was kidding."

"Oh," Meredith answered, shrugging. "Well, here's the thing. You have a ring, and you'll ask her, but she may not want to wear the ring. That doesn't mean she won't say yes. I think she will say yes. But the ring—we're not really ring kind of girls. That doesn't mean she doesn't love you, or she won't want to marry you. But we don't really do rings."

Owen sat back in his chair and frowned.

"It's just a symbol," Meredith continued. "It's not your love. It's a symbol of love. And she'll value what it means, but she may not want to wear it. It's nothing to do with you, specifically. I'm just warning you ahead of time, in case that happens. The not wanting the ring has nothing to do with the wanting to get married, so you shouldn't tie those things together permanently."

Owen nodded. "Okay. I mean, I won't lie and say I won't be a little disappointed. The ring did belong to my grandmother, after all. But I could live with it."

"You could live with what?" Cristina asked, plopping herself down in the chair next to Owen. She grabbed his bottle of water and took a sip.

"Uh, nothing," Meredith answered nervously, at the same time that Owen shoved the end of his sandwich in his mouth and mumbled unintelligibly. "Surgery. More hours in the OR. I could live with more surgeries," she added quickly, trying to cover for them.

Cristina's gaze flickered between Owen and Meredith. She wondered when she had last seen the two of them hanging out together. Possibly never. This was weird.

"Me, too," she agreed. "It's been slow lately. I'm so bored. Someone's artery needs to explode."

Meredith and Owen sat quietly, fidgeting, unable to think of a response. Cristina eyed them suspiciously. "Okay, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Owen and Meredith answered at the same time. They glanced at each other and quickly looked away nervously.

Cristina waved her finger between the two of them, pointing at one, and then the other. "You two were talking about something. Now you're being weird. What?"

Owen stood up, and grabbed his clipboard. "We were just chatting. I need to—I've got to…ummm." His voice trailed off as he leaned down to give Cristina a quick kiss. "Finish this paperwork," he continued, as if it just dawned on him. "I've got to go finish this. I'll see you later." He stepped back and walked off quickly, turning around once to give an exaggerated look towards Meredith over Cristina's shoulder, mentally imploring her to change the subject.

"Hey, do me a favor," Mer started, trying to distract Cristina. "Check on Lexie for me. It's her first day back; she's in the clinic, and I've already checked on her twice. I don't want to be the annoying older sister. And Bailey's got me in surgery this afternoon, anyway."

"Lexie's back?" Cristina asked, pushing the Owen-Meredith weirdness to the back of her mind for later consideration. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but she wanted to. She said she was ready. It's the clinic, so nothing major yet. Just sutures and stuff like that. It might be good for her to start back slowly."

"I'll go in a bit." Cristina leaned in. "He's gone now. You can tell me what you were talking about."

"Who?"

"You and Owen. Are you being dense on purpose?"

"Oh. Nothing important."

"Because it seemed like you were hiding something."

Meredith looked around, scrambling to come up with a cover story. "Okay. I'll tell you. But don't tell him I told you."

Cristina nodded as if that were obvious.

"I told him not to get you any stuffed animals."

Cristina stared at her. "Stuffed animals?"

"Yeah, he said he was thinking he might get you one as a present, like a teddy bear, and I told him not to. I told him you would think it was stupid."

"It would be stupid." Cristina paused a moment. _That's strange_, she thought. _That doesn't sound like him at all. _

"That's what I said you would say," Meredith answered as her pager went off. She checked it, then stood to leave. "Bailey's paging me-gotta go scrub in. Check on Lexie, okay?"

"Yeah, on my way now," Cristina replied, watching Mer walk away.

_Teddy bear? Owen would never give me a teddy bear_, she thought. _There's something odd going on here._

-ooo000ooo—

Jackson peeked around the doorway to the clinic and watched as Lexie stitched up a ten year old's elbow that had been mangled in a bike accident. _She looks even cuter with brown hair again,_ he thought to himself.

"What are you doing?"

He backed out of the doorway and up against the wall quickly, feeling like he had been caught doing something wrong. He found himself facing Cristina.

"Nothing."

"There's a whole lot of nothing going on today," she muttered to herself. She peered through the doorway and saw Lexie working carefully. She turned back to discover Jackson again watching Lexie. He was completely unaware of the puppy dog grin on his face.

Cristina rolled her eyes and laughed at him with a low-pitched chuckle. He glanced down at her, and blushed, realizing that she had caught him and knew exactly what he was doing there.

"Seriously?" Cristina giggled. "Three?"

He looked back in at Lexie one more time, then back to Cristina. "What?"

"Just go in and talk to her. You can't keep sneaking around out here staring at her. It's like you're simultaneously avoiding and stalking her. It's creepy."

Jackson shook his head and made to leave. "No. I shouldn't."

"What are you going to do? Wait until you get drunk at a party and try to kiss her? Because that move doesn't work for you."

"Shut up."

"Look," Cristina said, grabbing Jackson's arm and turning him towards the clinic. "I'll give you an excuse. Mer told me to check on Lexie to make sure she's okay. You're now her babysitter. Go see how she's doing and report back to Meredith later. Okay?" She gave him a little shove toward the door.

He looked back at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I've got something I need to do, and you can check on The Quicker Picker-Upper just as easily as I can. Mrs. Clean needs a friend. Go," she said, giving him a little push.

Jackson still hesitated, and looked back down the hall over Cristina's shoulder, as if searching for someone. She glanced up at him, and her expression softened.

"Alex isn't around. And he hasn't been around. He's…" she waved her hand vaguely. "He's got his own stuff to deal with." Jackson looked down at Cristina and she gave a little nod of encouragement. "Go," she repeated.

He nodded back and entered the clinic. Lexie glanced up, smiled, and gave him a little wave. He waved back shyly. Cristina turned away and walked towards the elevators.

_He might be okay for a girl with her heart in her vagina. It's kind of like he's got a vagina of his own, anyway_, she thought to herself as she entered the lift and pushed the button.

-ooo000ooo—

Alex caught up with Meredith in the hall as she headed towards the operating room.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," he said, walking in step with her.

"Right now? I'm scrubbing in with Bailey in a sec."

"Yeah, kind of right now." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm going to do something that might piss you off and I need to know if you're going to make me move out."

Meredith stopped and turned to him. "You don't need to move out. You always have a room in my house. Why would you need to move out?"

"I'm going to break up with Lexie."

"Oh." Meredith blinked, and they looked at each other for a moment. "Okay."

"Okay? What does that mean, okay?"

"It means okay. If you need to break up, you should break up."

Alex eyed her warily. "You're not mad? I thought you would be mad. I thought you would tell me to move out. She is your sister, after all."

Meredith nodded her head. "Yeah, she is my sister. But to be honest, I was kind of expecting it."

"You were?"

"Yeah. You two are not…I mean, you don't…I don't know." She lowered her voice. "You and Lexie are not you and Izzie."

Alex looked down at the ground and didn't say anything.

"That's part of it, isn't it? Izzie."

He looked back up, his eyes darting around like a cornered animal. "So anyway, I don't have to move out then? Because that would be a major pain in the ass on top of the physical therapy and everything else." Alex had just recently begun to process his feelings about Izzie, but he certainly wasn't ready for a conversation about her in the middle of the hallway.

Meredith considered, and then nodded. "No. As long as you and Lexie are okay with it, it's fine with me. You two are the ones who have to deal with each other."

"Good. Thanks," he answered, starting to walk away.

"Alex," Meredith called after him.

He stopped and turned around. She took a step towards him.

"Lexie is my sister, but you're also the closest thing I've got to a brother. There's always going to be a room in my house for you."

For a split second, he looked dumbfounded but quickly recovered his composure and changed into a practiced expression of nonchalance. "Yeah, okay, whatever," he said, trying to hide his emotions. "Don't get all sappy on me. Your pregnancy hormones are making you mushy. It's obnoxious."

He turned away quickly and walked off before she could see the relief on his face.

-ooo000ooo-

"McDreamy, I need you to do something for me," Cristina demanded as she barged into Derek's office.

"Come in," he replied ironically as he got up and closed the door behind her.

"You need to do me a favor." He raised an eyebrow and listened patiently. "Meredith and Owen are up to something. I want you to find out what it is."

He sat back down into the chair behind his desk. "This is what you want to cash in your I-saved-your-life favor on? Finding out why your boyfriend is acting weird? Why don't you just pass him a note in biology?"

"First of all, this is one of the many, many I-saved-your-life favors I will be cashing in on." Cristina plopped herself down in the chair in front of Derek. "Secondly, it also involves your wife. I tried to find out myself, but Meredith gave me some excuse about Owen giving me stuffed animals, and I don't buy it. Find out what's going on and tell me."

"And if I say no?"

Cristina sat back in the chair and narrowed her eyes. She was never one to back down from a challenge.

"Remember the good old days when I would show up at your house at 6:00 am and kick you out of bed with Meredith?"

"Yes," he replied warily.

"Owen took an early shift all next week to help out while so many people are on vacation. He'll be gone by four every morning. I'll be lonesome and bored. I'll need to be entertained. I wonder where I might find some company…" she said in exaggerated contemplation.

"You're kidding, right?" He asked in disbelief.

"Like I said, one of many, many favors I'll be cashing in on."

He took a sip of coffee and put it on the table. He liked a nice cup of coffee in the morning but preferably not one served at five in the morning by his wife's best friend in his own bed.

"Fine. You win. What did they say?"

"All I heard was Owen say he could live with something. 'I could live with it,' he said. What would he be talking about?"

"I don't know. Are you sure it has to do with you? The earth still rotates on its axis whether or not you have any say in the matter."

"Of course it was about me. Otherwise, there's no reason not to tell me. So will you find out?"

"I will work on it. I will not guarantee anything."

Cristina smiled and stood, her mission accomplished. She made to leave when Derek spoke once more.

"Dr. Yang, you do realize that at some point there will have to be a statute of limitations on the number of favors you get to redeem with me?"

She opened the door. "I know," she said. "But we can worry about that in a few years." She bounced into the hallway, the door slamming behind her.

"Godmother of my child," Derek muttered to himself, as he reached for his cell phone and dialed Owen's number.

-ooo000ooo-

"Alright already!" Mark yelled over the loud thumping as he quickly moved across the room to his front door. He swung it open to find Callie carrying a glass dish with two potholders, her foot still in the air preparing for another swift kick.

"You banged?" He said with a smirk.

"Move. This is hot," she replied. He backed up against the wall to let her pass to the kitchen, where she put the casserole dish down on the counter.

"What's that?"

"Hold on, there's more." She dropped the hot pads and ran back to her apartment. Mark went over and peeled back the foil to discover a sea of gooey cheesy goodness.

"Torres, I love your enchiladas," Mark called out to her as he carefully picked up a black olive from the garnish and popped it into his mouth.

Callie reappeared in his doorway, a pitcher of margaritas in one hand, a bowl of guacamole in the other, and a bag of chips tucked under her arm. She bumped the door with her hip to shut it behind her. "What? I couldn't hear you."

"I said I love your enchiladas," he repeated. "What's the occasion?"

"This," she said, waving her hand towards the food, "is a thank you."

"A thank you? For what?"

She pulled down two glasses from the cupboard and poured the margaritas. "For lots of things. For getting me McSteamy. For making me get dressed up and dragging my ass out of my apartment to Derek's party. For not letting me become crazy cat lady."

She handed him the drink. "This is my thank you." She clinked her glass with his, and took a sip.

"You didn't have to thank me," he said, handing her two plates. She expertly slid an enchilada onto each plate, and the smell of spicy sauce filled the air. "But I'm glad you did," he finished, taking his fork and digging in. He took a big bite and savored the taste of a rare home cooked meal.

"I know I didn't have to. But I wanted to. You have been listening to me go on and on about Arizona for months, and now that it's over, I wanted you to know how much I appreciate what a good friend you are."

"Now that it's over? Are you sure it's over for good? Because you did that whole break up and get back together thing for weeks."

She laughed. "Yes. It is definitely over. Arizona and I are done for good. And you supported me through the entire thing, from the moment I switched teams to when I blubbered snot all over your lab coat that day in the elevator when she and I broke up for the gazillionth time. And," she said, pointing at him with her fork for emphasis, before using it to scoop up another big bite, "you didn't even try to sleep with me."

He nodded. "That's true. I didn't. I thought about it, but I restrained myself. See? I'm maturing."

"You are. You're a good friend, Mark Sloane." Callie paused for a moment, considering. "In fact, I would say you are my best friend."

Mark stopped and looked up at her from his rapidly emptying plate. "Really? Your best friend?" He asked, surprised.

She smiled. "Mmmhmm."

Suddenly, he felt rather proud of himself. "Huh. Your best friend. Well, Torres, you are my best friend, as well. Even with the crazy cat lady thing going on." He smiled.

"Imagine that," she said, clinking her margarita glass against his.

"Imagine that," he repeated, smiling back at her and taking a drink.

-ooo000ooo-

Owen knocked on Derek's door, then opened it and leaned in. "Hey. What's up? You called?"

Derek waved him in.

"I'm in a tricky situation," he started. Owen sat down in the chair to listen. "Yang wants me to find out what's the big secret between you and Meredith."

Owen's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"So apparently there is a secret. I thought Cristina was imagining things." Derek leaned forward. "You don't have to tell me anything. I told her I would ask, but I never said I would get an answer."

Owen rubbed his beard and sighed deeply. He leaned back in the chair. "I got a ring."

"A ring?"

"My grandmother's ring. I picked it up from my mother's house to give to Cristina. It's an engagement ring."

"You and Cristina are getting engaged?" Derek stood and came around the desk, offering his hand to Owen. "Congratulations! That's great!"

Owen smiled and shook his hand. "Thanks, except we're not engaged yet. I haven't asked her. That's the problem. I wanted to have the ring for when I was ready to ask her and when I thought she would be ready to say yes. Only Meredith found the ring first. So I know, and Meredith knows, and now you know. The only person who doesn't know about the ring is Cristina. And I'm worried she's going to find out about it before I can say anything or before we're ready. I don't want her to be angry-or worse, say no-because she's the last to know about it."

"Ah. I see," Derek answered, leaning against his desk. "And she's already sensing some sort of secret between you and Meredith."

"Uh huh. Meredith is very excited."

Derek laughed. "She can get excited about things. And you can read every emotion she has right on her face."

"Exactly. And don't get me wrong-I'm glad Meredith is excited. I'm glad she supports us being together, because to be honest, she hasn't always been my biggest fan."

"That's true, but that was in the past. She feels differently now."

Owen smiled, grateful for that change in his and Meredith's relationship. "Let me ask you something," Owen started. Derek nodded. "Did it bother you that Meredith didn't want to wear your engagement ring?"

Derek crossed his arms and thought for a moment. "I thought it would, but not really. She's her own person, and it didn't change the commitment we had to one another."

"Cristina may not want the ring."

"She may not. They're two peas in a twisted pod."

Owen nodded in agreement. He looked Derek in the eye. "Did she wear the ring before? With Burke?"

Derek shook his head. "No. But that was a whole different situation. Their relationship was not…your relationship with Cristina is in an entirely different place than when she was engaged before. Looking back, it's really not surprising that their relationship ended—it's the way that it ended that did the most damage. You can't leave a woman standing alone in a wedding gown in a church and expect her to come out of that unchanged."

Owen tried to control his expression and keep his face neutral, but inside he was bewildered and somewhat horrified. Every once in a while, a detail about Burke would slip out from Cristina or from a co-worker at the hospital, but Owen never fully realized that when Cristina told him that Burke left, it was literally at the altar in the church while she stood waiting in her wedding dress. No wonder why Cristina was so skittish about marriage, and why Meredith wanted it to be so perfect for her best friend. While he was happy that Cristina had already been freed of Burke when Owen met and fell in love with her, part of him was upset that Cristina had endured such pain. Part of him just wanted to hunt Burke down and kick his ass for hurting Cristina so badly.

"So," Derek continued, oblivious to what key information he had just revealed to Owen, "she may want to wear the ring, and she may not. It's up to you how you want to accept that."

Owen heaved another deep sigh. "Well, that's just a bit more pressure to live up to, isn't it?"

Derek nodded no. "No pressure. You'll ask, and she'll answer. And it will be the way it is supposed to be-which I'm sure will be yes," he added, smiling.

Owen returned his look with a nervous smile of his own. "Do you think you can buy me some time before Meredith spills the news?"

"I'll do my best. I really don't think she'll give anything away, though. She knows Cristina would much rather hear it come from you than from her."

_Ah, yes_, Owen thought. _The big moment._ _But no pressure_, he said to himself ironically.

"What are you going to tell Cristina when she comes back looking for information?"

"I don't know. Probably that I couldn't pry anything out of you. That she'll have to redeem her favors on something else in the future. I'm sure she can come up with something else to get me to do." Derek and Owen stood at the same time.

"I'm really happy for you," Derek said, as he embraced Owen in a big man hug. They slapped each other on the back and separated.

"Thanks," Owen answered.

"But you may want to do it soon. If Meredith knows and Cristina's already suspecting something, I don't know how long I can hold them off. I'm only one man," he laughed.

-ooo000ooo-

Cristina saw Owen and Derek hug through the window when she passed on the bridge. However, Teddy paged her to the OR before she had a chance to talk to either of the men. Now, late in the evening, Derek had already gone home and Cristina had changed back into her street clothes and was waiting in Owen's office for him to finish a few last details on his computer before they went back to their place.

She watched him as he concentrated intently, his brow furrowed. The hair at the back of his neck was getting long and starting to curl a tiny bit. He probably needed a haircut, but she didn't say anything; she liked when it got a little scruffy and mussed like that. She wondered if he was keeping a secret from her.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" She asked.

He looked at her, surprised, but said nothing. Then he turned back to the screen, closed out the windows, and pushed the button to shut it down. He swiveled back towards her.

"I mean, are you keeping some sort of secret from me? Because you and Meredith were acting weird today."

He watched her for a moment, and then decided that while this wasn't the right time for detail, he would be as honest with her as he could.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

She was momentarily startled by his honesty. "So why won't you tell me?"

He paused. "I will tell you. But not yet. Not now."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not ready to tell you. But I will tell you. When I'm ready. I promise."

"Huh. I don't know if I like that."

"Would you rather I lie to you?"

"No."

"Then there is something that I am not telling you now, but that I will tell you when the time is right." He leaned forward and took her hands in his. "Can you accept that?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Ummm….no. Not in this case."

She frowned.

"Cristina, it's a good thing. I think it's a good thing, a very good thing, and I think you will, too. I hope you will." He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. Suddenly, he thought of an idea. "I won't tell you, but you can ask me about it, if you want."

Her face lit up. "Really? Because I'll figure it out."

He laughed, knowing her fierce competitive streak. "You can ask yes or no questions. But I will not guarantee that I will answer or divulge anything specific."

"You have to answer."

"No, I don't. But I promise I won't lie. I will never lie to you. Not now, or ever," he said, leaning a little closer and giving her a light kiss.

"Don't distract me. I have questions."

"Okay. Shoot. Wait—no. We're putting a limit on these questions because I'm hungry and tired and I want to go home and crawl into bed with my hot girlfriend and a pizza."

"But it's twenty questions. That's how it's played. There are questions—twenty of them. Duh."

"Twenty? No. Way too many. We'll be here all night. Five questions?"

"That's not enough. You're keeping a secret. I get more than that."

"You're right," he conceded. "Ten questions. Final offer."

She agreed. Ten questions were better than nothing.

"Is the secret about me?"

"Yes."

"Is it about Meredith?"

"No. Well, maybe sort of. No, I guess not."

"What kind of answer is that?"

"That's that only answer you get. And that question counts, too. Seven left."

"Damn it." She would have to be more careful about how she phrased things.

"Is it about you?"

"Yes."

"Is it about teddy bears?"

He gave her a strange look. "Umm, no," he answered.

_See, I was right. He knows better_, she thought. "Good. Is it about the hospital?"

"No, not really." He sat back, kind of enjoying this. It was better than him trying to come up with a cover.

"Is it about Teddy?" Cristina frowned, a thought dawning on her. "She's not leaving, is she?"

"No. At least, as far as I know, she's not. I said it was a good thing. And that was two questions. You have two left."

She scowled at him, only realizing now how often she phrased things as questions that didn't need to be questions. She tried to think of some of the things they had recently discussed and if they might be something to do with his secret.

"Hurry up. Pizza is calling. Our bed wants us to come home and get into it."

"Don't rush me." Abruptly, a terrified look washed over her face. "It's not about my mother, is it?"

He laughed. "No. Believe me, I know better than to surprise you by springing your mother on you." She sighed in visible relief. "One question left, though. Make it a good one."

"Okay, okay. Is it…" She stopped, thinking about their recent exchanges. Suddenly her eyes got wide.

"Is it about Paris?"

He froze in a panic, hoping his face didn't given away how close to the truth she was. Their honeymoon destination wasn't a secret, but that was close enough to the engagement/marriage question to make his heart race faster.

"Do you want it to be about Paris?"

_Yes_, she thought immediately. _Wait, what? I do?_

"Hey, I'm asking the questions," she answered almost in a whisper.

"No," he replied quickly. "It's not about Paris." _Technically a no_, he thought, _although awfully damn close-too damn close. But not close enough that he couldn't get away with a negative answer—thank God._

Cristina was surprised at the little tinge of disappointment she felt; Owen had said no awfully fast to that last question. _Did I want the secret to be about our honeymoon?_ She thought to herself. _I think maybe I did. What does that mean?_

"That's it, ten questions." Owen got up quickly and turned away from her to gather his things. Or at least, so she thought. It was mostly so he could hide his face from hers, afraid that he would give too much away before he could compose himself. He puttered around the office a few minutes, sorting himself out. She sat quietly, watching him, lost in thought and having forgotten the immediacy of finding out the secret.

When he had gotten his things together, Owen turned back to Cristina. She stood in front of him and he marveled for just a second at how beautiful she was. He realized that one day, soon, if everything went as planned, she might agree to be his wife.

"I love you very much," he said.

She reached up and touched his cheek, and was amazed at the warmth and love she felt when he gazed at her the way he was looking at her right now. Whatever he planned to tell her, she could wait till the time was right.

"Let's go home," she said. She took his hand, and led him out of the office.

_ They say there is no cure for curiosity; when you know that there's something you don't know, you can't help but want to find out more. But with some secrets, it's the questions that just might tell more than the answers. _


	10. Episode10: You Could DriveA Person Crazy

Author: lovemesomeowen

**You Could Drive a Person Crazy**

_Albert Einstein once said that "Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." __Since we create both our realities and our illusions, sometimes we have to be willing to mix things up by shaking things up…_

Cristina woke up to the smell of something wonderful. Getting her bearings she focused her attention: coffee, bacon…definitely bacon, and…something baking, maybe? She turned off the alarm clock and checked the time. They had less than an hour to get to the hospital. Why had Owen prepared such an elaborate breakfast? She racked her brain as she splashed some water on her face and ran her fingers through her tangle of curls thinking she must have forgotten something important, but there was nothing. No special occasion. It was just an ordinary day, she concluded, spitting out her toothpaste.

Suspicious, Cristina walked into the living room and saw Owen at the counter reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee. He was dressed for work and blueberry muffins were cooling on the counter. Clearly something was up.

"Hey!" She slid onto the stool beside him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "What's all this? When did you go all Martha Stewart on me?"

He had the decency to blush a little as he replied, "Good morning to you, too. I can't make you breakfast without getting the third degree?" He paused. "It's the muffins, isn't it? Too much?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Spill it."

He reached over, grabbed a brochure from the far side of the counter, handed it to her and then got up to get her food.

"Here," he said. "I want us to go away next weekend and I wasn't sure how you'd react."

She took the coffee mug he was offering and glanced over the pamphlet. "This looks pretty fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I like this?"

"Well," he said, handing her a plate, "I know how you feel about missing work…"

She took a bite of muffin. "So? Twist my arm. Um, these are good."

"And I know how you feel about visiting your mother…"

She nearly choked as she looked up at him. "What?" She flipped the leaflet over. The resort was in Santa Barbara, California. "You chose this place because you want to visit my _mother_?" Her delight with breakfast and the thought of a weekend getaway was quickly evaporating.

"Maybe," he hedged. Then, remembering his promise to never lie to her, he admitted,

"OK, yes, I did. I just figured …we want to go away…this is a great place…and we could see your mother and Saul while we're in the area."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I want to meet them, Cristina."

"Why?"

"Why do I need a reason? They're your parents! We're building a life together. We're talking about getting married someday. I want to meet them."

She continued to eat her breakfast but her expression had turned petulant. "I don't _want _to visit my mother…"

Owen sighed. "I know. But I'm going to have to meet her eventually. She's calling more since she found out that I live here. And she's already told me she'd see me soon."

Cristina blinked and looked startled. "She said that?"

"She did. Do you really want to ignore this and wait for her to show up unannounced? Because I think that's where we're headed. I'm going to meet her, Cristina. It's just a question of when. I'd rather have some control over the situation. Wouldn't you? This is perfect. Short, sweet and we'll have a getaway car."

Cristina considered that for a moment. "We're not staying at the house."

"I agree. That would be way too stressful, but I do think we should have lunch there."

She immediately looked panicked. "No! We can meet them at a restaurant!"

"There is nothing warm about a restaurant. I want to give them the chance to be hospitable. I want to see where you grew up. I want to see your room."

Cristina snorted. "Please. My room hasn't been _my room_ for over a decade."

"That's not the point. This is important to me. I want to meet your mother and step-father. It's one day. One. After which you will get three days…three…at a five-star resort. There's a gourmet chef, a full-service spa, a beautiful pool… and we're staying in an ocean view suite with an in-room Jacuzzi tub. There will be nothing to do all day except sleep, eat, swim and have ridiculous amounts of incredibly hot sex."

He exhaled, having finished his prepared remarks.

She made a face at him and then crinkled her nose in that way that he loved so much. "Fine. But I want a massage _and_ a mud bath _and_ a pedicure."

"Done."

"And I'm not eating anything that's good for me. No sprouts, no tofu, nothing vegan…I want real food. I want steak. I want wine. And I want lots of chocolate."

"I understand."

"Good," she said, glancing at the clock. "We have just enough time for make-up sex."

"I wasn't aware we were fighting…"

She raised an eyebrow at him. Did he not comprehend the magnitude of this victory?

"I'm already showered and dressed," he protested.

"And I just agreed to visit my mother."

"Right. What was I thinking? But I'm not in the mood to rush," he said, smiling.

"Then I guess we're going to be late for work."

oooOOOooo

Cristina made her way through the depths of the hospital until she found Meredith lying on a gurney in "their" hallway. Her mind flashed briefly to an image of all five interns sitting there together. She pushed away the memory of Izzie and George.

"You look like crap. You paged?"

Meredith shifted slightly to make room for Cristina to sit down, never opening her eyes. "I did. I need a favor. You need to trade assignments with me."

"And I'm doing this, why, exactly?"

"I can barely move. I feel nauseated all the time. I'm weak from barely eating. You're in the clinic today. I think I can do that…maybe…if I can stop throwing up. Please, trade with me?"

Cristina sighed. "Whose service are you on today?"

"Robbins…"

"Meredith, come on! You know that Robbins hates me. And Callie can't even run interference for me anymore…"

"I am begging. Please…"

"You owe me big time," she griped. "Can this day get any worse?"

Alex walked towards them. "Never say that out loud. It can always be worse. Move over." He handed Meredith a can of ginger ale and sat down next to Cristina.

Meredith sat up carefully and popped the can open. "Thank you," she said, taking a tiny sip. She turned towards them. "What happened?"

"Owen wants to take me to Santa Barbara next weekend."

Meredith and Alex looked at each other, confused.

Meredith finally spoke, "That's sounds…terrible? I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"By way of Beverly Hills," Cristina explained.

Meredith's mouth dropped open as Alex exclaimed, "Whoa…"

Cristina's head snapped around, "What?"

"Nothing," he backpedaled. "It's just…interesting."

"In English?"

"He wants to meet your mother."

"So?"

"So no guy wants to meet _your _mother just for giggles. Do I need to draw you a map, Yang? Hunt's an old-fashioned guy. He's going to propose and he wants to meet the parents first. I bet he wants their blessing," he said with a smirk.

Meredith tried to keep her composure as Cristina looked at Alex skeptically and said, "You think? Really? I mean, we've talked about it…" She looked doubtful.

Alex's pager went off. He glanced down at it and said, "Speak of the devil. Your boyfriend's paging me down to trauma. Or should I say fiancé?" Cristina shot him a withering look. "Are we having lunch later?"

Meredith looked horrified. "I can not be in the cafeteria. Too many smells," she said miserably.

He tried again. "How about back here, then? Nothing cooked. I'll bring you a sandwich."

"OK…" Meredith agreed.

"Yang?"

"I'm in…"

"Good! Later!" He sauntered off with a satisfied smile.

Cristina waited until Alex was out of earshot then turned to Meredith. "Do you think Alex is right about Owen proposing?" A light bulb went off in her head. "Hey! Is that the big mystery? Mer, you have to tell me what you know…"

Meredith tried to think fast. Putting on what she hoped was her best I-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-about face, she said, "Cristina. Do you really think Owen would come to me with something like that? I mean, we're friends now and everything but…"

Cristina wasn't even paying attention, lost in her own thoughts.

Meredith's voice snapped her back to the present moment. "So, assuming Alex is right and Owen is planning to propose …how do we feel about this? Are we happy?"

Cristina's brain was in overdrive as she reached her conclusion. Owen wasplanning to propose. She knew it in her gut. "I think maybe we are…"

oooOOOooo

Owen knocked on the door to Derek's office.

"Come in," Derek said, looking up. "Hey! What brings you here?"

Owen closed the door. "I need a favor. I'm sorry to ask, but it's important."

"What's up?"

"Cristina and I are scheduled to be off next weekend. I need to turn two days into five."

Derek looked surprised and a little concerned. "I can make that happen. Everything ok?"

"Everything's fine. Cristina and I are getting away. I've managed to negotiate a deal: Three days away in exchange for one with her mother."

Derek whistled softly. "You're going to meet Helen? Things are moving right along."

"It's getting ridiculous that I haven't met her yet, so I'm doing something about it. We're having lunch at the house and then going on to the resort from there."

Derek's eyes grew large. "You're going to the house? You're a braver man than I, my friend."

"Is she really that bad? Cristina's not exaggerating?"

"Helen is…quite something. Cristina may not be exaggerating as much as you think."

"Well, she seemed pleased when I called about lunch…surprised but pleased. I imagine I caught her off-guard," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Indeed," Derek replied. "I'm sure she thought that hell would freeze over before Cristina willingly paid her a visit."

"I wouldn't quite say Cristina is willing, but she's going, so I can't ask for more than that. It matters to me. They're her parents and I want to meet them, preferably _before _our wedding."

"Asking permission while you're there?"

"I'm almost forty years old. I don't ask permission, but I'd take their goodwill," he admitted. "Family is important to me and, deep down, I think it's important to Cristina."

"If you say so," Derek said with a chuckle. "Any more ideas on how you're going to propose? The clock's ticking. Meredith has been very good."

"I know. She's been great. I'm working on it…really."

Owen's phone chimed with an incoming text. It was from Meredith: "She's on to you. Alex figured it out. I tried to cover. Hurry up!" Owen took a deep breath. Damn.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked, reading Owen's face.

"That was from your wife. Cristina's putting it together. I need a plan."

oooOOOooo

It was nearly two a.m. when Owen finally got home. A multi-car accident had flooded the ER at the start of the afternoon rush and he'd been in surgery for hours. He crept into the apartment as quietly as he could and smiled when he noticed Cristina asleep on the couch with a medical journal on her chest. He set his things down on the counter and debated whether he should try to move her to the bedroom or just get a blanket. He opted for the latter and then quietly went to the kitchen to find something to eat. The refrigerator light awakened her at once.

"Hey…" she said sleepily. "How'd it go?"

"Saved two, lost three others," he replied. "Bailey's still working on the last one. I'm sorry I woke you."

"That's ok. I'm sorry you had such a long night. Bring that over here. You must be exhausted." She sat up and made room for him on the couch.

He sat next to her with a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

"That doesn't begin to describe it. And I'm on again in… less than five hours. Tell me about your day," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich as he kicked off his shoes.

"My mother called me."

He braced himself. "And…?"

"And apparently you've worked your magic because she was nothing like herself."

"How's that?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"She was _happy_. She said you called. She's thrilled that we're coming for lunch. She can't wait to see us. And she said it all in less than two minutes. I wanted to ask who she was and what she'd done with Helen Rubenstein. I can't say I'm surprised, though. You can be charming as hell when you want to be."

Sandwich gone he put down the water bottle and smiled wearily as he put his head on her lap, stretching out across the couch, arms around her waist. "Thank you. I try."

"No, you don't. That's what makes it charming. Don't lie down. We need to go to bed."

"I like it here," he said. "Just for a minute."

"No. You're going to fall asleep and then where will I be? It's not like I can move you."

"So?" he said, eyes still closed, but she could hear the grin in his voice.

She rubbed his head, massaging his temples gently.

He sighed. "That's nice. But you're right. It's not going to get me off the couch. OK. Let's do this before I fall asleep."

They stood up and started walking to the bedroom. Owen stopped suddenly and turned to Cristina. "You're ok with going to see your mom, right? Because I would never force you to do something you didn't want to do. Encourage, yes. Bribe, definitely. Maybe even press, but not force."

She looked at him quizzically, wondering where this was coming from.

"I know you wouldn't. It's fine. I wouldn't be going if it wasn't."

"OK. I'm just checking." He kissed her gently.

When they got to the bedroom, he lay down on the bed and was asleep almost instantly, still in his clothes. Cristina covered him with the blanket before climbing into bed next to him. She checked the alarm and turned off the light thinking as she drifted off to sleep that Owen Hunt was a man of many contradictions …and wondering what it would be like to be his wife.

oooOOOooo

"Tell me again why we have to have the top up?" Owen said. "We're not even on the freeway."

"It's not my fault you rented a convertible. A convertible? Really? Are you having a mid-life crisis?" They were almost there and Cristina could feel her stress levels rising.

"I thought it would be fun…"

"I don't want to be a mess when I get there, ok? We can put it down on the way to Santa Barbara…very _To Catch a Thief_." She furrowed her brow. "Remember, my mother is going to probe you for information. Be as general as possible. It's best to be vague. Don't offer any details. And do _not _bring up the shooting…"

He chose to ignore the fact that Cristina was treating him like a child and focused, instead, on knowing that she was under a lot of pressure. "What does she know?"

"Other than what she saw on TV? There was a shooter in the hospital and I wasn't hurt."

He gave her a sideways glance. "That's definitely vague."

"She's my mother. There's no reason for her to know I had a gun to my head."

"What's the deal with you and Saul?"

"We get along fine. Turn right at the stop sign. They've been married since I was three years old. I don't even remember him not being around."

"So you like each other or just tolerate each other's presence?"

"I like him. Really!" she added, seeing his doubtful look. "He never tried to take my father's place…before or after he died…I always appreciated that. I'm looking forward to seeing him. Too bad to see him I have to see her, too. Left at the corner…"

"This neighborhood is beautiful," Owen said, noting the immaculate lawns and gigantic houses visible behind endless variations of fences and shrubbery. "Saul's doing ok."

"You could say that," she said with a wry smile. Third house on the left. I feel sick."

"You're fine. And you're not alone. I'm with you." He pulled into the driveway.

Cristina checked herself quickly in the mirror. "Let's get this over with…"

Owen grabbed the bottle of wine from the backseat and they walked to the front door. Cristina took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Helen answered almost immediately.

"You must be Owen," she said. "I can't believe Cristina's been hiding you all this time. Welcome." She turned her attention to Cristina, assessing her in one glance. "You're pale…and you need to put on some weight. What have you been eating?"

"Nice to see you, too, Mother." Cristina walked past her into Saul's waiting arms.

"Hey, Saul…"

"Crissy," he said, wrapping her up in a big hug. "We're so glad to see you." He gave Helen a pointed look. "And this is your Owen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Owen said, offering his hand.

"Call me Saul. Please come in…we're having lunch on the terrace. Helen?"

She took Saul's arm and they began walking to the back of the house, Owen and Cristina right behind them.

"Crissy?" Owen whispered.

"Don't go there…" she warned, under her breath.

oooOOOooo

"Helen, lunch was delicious. Thank you so much."

Owen was cautiously optimistic. Things were going better than he had hoped. Granted that wasn't saying much, but so far the conversation had been pleasant and fairly effortless, if general and vague. Cristina and Helen both seemed to be making an effort to get along…or at least not fight…a momentary truce of sorts.

"So Owen," Saul said. "Tell us more about the situation at the hospital. We were so worried when we heard about the shooter. Are things starting to get back to normal?"

"I'm not sure things will ever be 'normal' again," Owen replied, "but we're all doing the best we can. It was a terrible thing."

"I was relieved to learn that Cristina wasn't involved directly," Helen said.

"Actually, Cristina was a hero that day," Owen said.

Cristina looked at him warily, wondering where he was going with this.

"She operated on our Chief of Surgery, Meredith's husband…Derek. He was critically injured and Cristina saved his life."

"I'm not surprised," said Saul, with pride. "She a firecracker, this one."

Helen looked at Cristina for a moment as if seeing something for the first time.

"No wonder you're so thin. You _were _involved. I knew it. A mother knows," she said, directing the remark at Owen. She looked back at Cristina. "I knew there was more to it. What else aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing!" All bets were off. "Why do you always think…?"

"So," Helen continued, ignoring Cristina and turning her attention to Owen, "what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

"Here we go!" Cristina muttered, exasperated.

Owen's face and demeanor remained calm. He met Helen's gaze and decided on-the-spot to be as direct as possible while avoiding specifics.

"Well, we love each other. We live together. We're building a life together."

"Are you getting married?" Helen demanded.

Owen shifted a little in his chair, unsettled by her blunt question.

"We've discussed it," he answered. "I'm sure we'll talk about it more…sooner or later."

He hesitated. He knew that sounded weak, but he didn't know how else to answer without tipping his hand. But she wasn't letting him off the hook that easily.

"Which is it?" Helen asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Sooner or later?" she insisted.

_She really is tenacious_, he thought. He decided that when it came to her mother Cristina had the patience of Job.

"We haven't worked that out yet," he said, trying to regain control of the situation, but Cristina had had enough and decided to put an end to it. She gave Owen a terse smile.

"Mother," she said, looking Helen square in the eyes, "that's between Owen and me. It's our decision, not yours. It happens when it happens. Now who wants dessert?"

There was an awkward silence.

"I'll get it," said Helen.

"I am perfectly capable of cutting a pie," Cristina insisted. "I'll be right back."

"I'll join you," offered Saul, jumping to his feet.

They got up and walked into the house, leaving Owen and Helen alone.

They looked at each other in silence for a long moment.

"I like you, Owen."

Owen didn't know how to react. He opened his mouth to speak but Helen stopped him.

"Let me finish. I like you. But I also liked him." Owen said nothing, both out of respect and curiosity. He assumed she was referring to Preston Burke.

"I liked him very much," Helen continued. "He was charming and refined …very smart. An excellent surgeon…an excellent teacher…that much was clear…and a good man, I think, despite everything. But he didn't understand her. I felt for him. I don't understand her either most of the time. She's always been a difficult child."

She paused a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"I like you, Owen, and I think you _do_ understand my daughter. She seems different with you. It's quite astounding actually. So I'm going to trust you."

"Ma'am?"

"Helen." She went on, "When he left, he broke her. He broke my girl. That must never happen again. Do we understand each other?" She was looking a hole right through him.

Owen was momentarily taken aback. He chose his words carefully.

"Helen…I love her…more than anything…more than my life. I will do my best for her every day. I promise you. And we'll take care of each other. You have my word."

She considered what he'd said, then nodded her head. "I believe you."

oooOOOooo

Cristina began cutting the pie as Saul got the plates and the forks. They worked together in comfortable, knowing silence. Saul paused, reached over, and took Cristina's hand.

"She can be difficult …that doesn't change…."

Cristina sighed and looked at him, shaking her head.

"So, what do you think of Owen?" she asked, deciding to change the subject.

She knew he was dying to comment but, unlike Helen, rarely offered an unsolicited opinion. Saul beamed.

"I like him very much. I like the way he treats you. He's respectful…kind…and he's proud of your achievements, not threatened by them. He's a good man."

"He is," she agreed.

"And you clearly love each other. You've chosen well, Crissy. I think you're going to have a wonderful life together."

Cristina smiled. _We already do_, she thought, feeling grateful.

"And it's so good to see you. We've missed you…both of us. She doesn't know how to show it, but your mother loves you. Promise me you'll come back…sooner rather than later?" He smiled at his little joke.

"We will. I promise," she replied, handing him two of the plates. "Shall we?"

oooOOOooo

They rode in silence as they made their way north along the Pacific Coast Highway, fingers intertwined. The convertible top was down and Cristina's hair was everywhere, but she didn't care. She loved the feeling of the wind against her face.

"So I'm Cary Grant and you're Grace Kelly. Or is it Crissy?" he said mischievously.

"Stop it! Only Saul gets to call me that."

"Do I get to hear why?"

"Maybe, but not today," she said firmly.

Turning to look at him she continued, "Thanks for insisting we go. It wasn't easy seeing her but it was the right thing to do. And it was great to see Saul. I'd forgotten…"

Owen gave her hand a squeeze. "Well, you made me visit my mother when I didn't want to…we'll call it even. Things actually went pretty well, aside from that part in the middle. I think we should do it again. Do you think you could stand it?"

"I'm going to have to. I promised Saul we'd visit again soon and I think I meant it. She makes me crazy but that's never going change. I've just got to deal with it. She's my mother."

"Yes, she is. I told her they should come visit us. I hope you don't mind too much."

Cristina groaned.

"Still love me?" he teased.

"Always…but that's going to cost you."

"How much?" he asked, grinning.

"I'm thinking a seaweed wrap and a facial. Oooh! And that thing with the hot stones!"

_Habits and routines give us comfort and security. Patterns of behavior reassure us, even when those patterns are unhealthy or downright toxic. If we want to change…if we want to grow…if we want to keep ourselves from losing our minds, then we have to be willing to let go of old conflicts and resentments. And we have to face new fears and uncertainties with trust and hope. We have to be willing do things differently or else not be surprised when things remain exactly the same. _


	11. Episode 11: Undisclosed Desires

**Story: **Undisclosed Desires  
**Author:** hopecrowe  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Length: **3,000ish words  
**Summary: **Episode Eleven of Grey's Anatomy 6.5  
**Disclaimer: **These characters do not belong to me. They are the property of Shonda Rhimes. I make no money from using them…unfortunately.  
**Author's Note: **Thanks to the entire 6.5 team for their all of their help and input. This is my last episode for the season—I can't believe it. Special thanks to the faaabulous crazyflirtca for beta-reading. Here's to getting a promising promo tonight!

"_The heart wants what the heart wants". It's an expression that we hear all the time, but what does it actually mean? Maybe it's the best way of explaining just how inexplicable our desires can be. Some of our desires are hidden so deeply that even _we_ don't know about them. But then some catalyst comes along and acts like a spark. That spark can turn an unknown desire from a low-lit flame into an explosion—an explosive desire that is all we can think about._

Cristina stared at the flowing red liquid drenching the carpet under the coffee table. She quickly grabbed the wine bottle that had fallen over and cursed loudly. She was only still awake because Owen was at work. She almost resented how hard it was to fall asleep when Owen wasn't next to her. Grabbing some paper towels off the kitchen counter, she threw them on top of the spill to soak it up. She looked around wildly…cleaning was so not her thing. Cristina ran to the kitchen and pulled open every cabinet until she found one with what looked like spray bottles and some sponges. As she pulled out the bottles with strange blue and green liquids inside, she stopped dead when she saw a small blue box hidden inside of a bucket. Finally it hit her that this must be the long lost cufflinks that she had hidden for Meredith. But something seemed off.

Cristina opened the box and her heart stopped.

Maybe an infinitesimally small part of her had expected something like this, but in that moment, she had to remind herself to breathe. She gulped and examined the simple ring that lay inside.

Owen had a ring. A ring that was hiding in a bucket under the kitchen sink. Hiding there for who knows how long. She took another deep breath. Cristina felt the butterflies in her stomach going crazy, but she almost felt relieved. This explained so much. This was Owen's big secret. A secret that Meredith weeks ago, which explained all of those secret discussions between her and Owen. And when she had asked him about Paris… a small smile spread across her face as she closed the small box and threw it back in the bucket, forgetting all about the stain on the living room carpet.

Cristina sighed and sat next to Meredith as she lay down on the gurney in the hallway.

"How's the belly?" Cristina asked, taking a sip from her coffee. Meredith simply groaned in response. "Hmm, well that's interesting. You know what else is interesting?" Cristina paused for a moment seeking a prompt from Meredith to continue, but she just continued to lie still with her eyes shut. Foregoing the urge to toy with Meredith, given her current state, Cristina opted to get straight to the point. "I found a ring in the kitchen today." Cristina watched her reaction closely. Meredith's eyes shot open, and she looked bewildered.

"It was in the kitchen?" Meredith asked, sounding confused.

"I know. Shocked the hell out of me this morning. You don't seem too surprised."

"Oh…um, well…what I meant..."

"Okay, Mer, drop it. I know you knew."

"Oh thank god. This whole thing was stressing me out…and that's not good for the little one," Meredith said, placing a hand delicately on her stomach. "By the way, it washidden in the sock drawer when I found it. He must've gotten paranoid."

"Can you blame him?"

"Kind of hilarious that he thought the place with the cleaning supplies would be safest, right? He really does get you."

"Hey, I found it though, didn't I?" Cristina replied, amused at the thought herself.

"So anyway, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"Cristina. _The ring_."

"Very creepy movie."

"Are you avoiding this question on purpose?"

"No…I'm just still processing everything, I guess." And whenever Cristina thought about the ring, her mind would skip along to Paris. Her and Owen sharing pastries at a boulangerie. Or drinking champagne on the Champs de Mars. Before she knew it, yet another irrepressible smile was on her face.

"So you're not freaking out, I take it…" Meredith said, propping her head up on her arm.

"Freaking out? No…not yet, anyway" Cristina said, snapping out of her dreamy state.

"Happy?"

"About the ring?"

"No, about the weather."

"I want to be with him, that much I know."

"There's nothing else you really need to know, is there?" Meredith said simply, smiling. "You know, you seem happy. Your smile, your voice…"

"So what's he planning? He must've told you, which is why you came up with that stupid thing about the teddy bears…"

"Oh, let him do what he wants. He wants it to be really special, don't go ruining that for him. I'm sure he's waiting for the perfect moment to do the perfect thing. I'm sure he's got it all mapped out. Just be patient. Or at least try, I know you and patience don't get along. But for his sake…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm not going to… Look, I'm just…curious. A little curiosity never hurt anyone."

"Tell that to the cat."

"I hate that expression."

"That's because you don't like the message." Cristina took another sip of her coffee and pushed herself off of the gurney.

"I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Seriously, Cristina. Just forget you ever saw it!"

"Fine, fine. Whatever, just don't stress about this anymore. I don't want to upset the McBaby."

Lexie stood at the counter of the clinic filling out some more paper work. Soon she'd be off of her non-stop clinic routine and getting back into surgery; but for the time being, she was enjoying the lack of stress in her life. She deserved a break after the past couple months. Lexie thought back to the other day with Alex. He had broken up with her in a very Alex way—abrupt, straight-forward, but not unkind. He simply couldn't handle it. He had never gotten over Izzie and deep down, Lexie knew it. He hadcalled out to Lexie thinking she was Izzie when he was dying, after all. This parting of ways was healthy. So healthy, in fact, that Lexie hadn't shed a tear. She felt a lot of things about the breakup: relief, some residual guilt, but no grief or sadness. She felt free. Alex, through no fault of his own, had been a weight on her. A manifestation of the guilt she felt over the carnage from the shooting. Then there was Jackson…who gave her the exact opposite feeling. He reminded her of what things were like before. He gave her butterflies.

Moments later, she felt a light pressure on her lower back. She turned to see Jackson giving her a cocky smile.

"Good morning, Dr. Grey." She laughed at the oddity of his formal gesture and as a way to let out some of the nerves that had shot through her when he had touched her.

"It is a good morning, Dr. Avery."

"I hear that you're…back on the market, as they say," he said, carefully watching her reaction. Instead of avoiding his eyes and looking upset, she looked him back directly in the eyes and smiled. With her smile, Jackson noticed the cloud that had been cast in her eyes the past few months seemed significantly lightened.

"You hear right," Lexie responded playfully, tipping her head to the side and biting her lip. "Any bidders I should know about?" Jackson leaned his side on the counter, putting a hand on his hip.

"Well, maybe. I'm sure they wouldn't want to move in too early. Don't women need time to process relationships or something? I think it usually includes ice cream, bad movies, and wine."

"That sounds perfect. See you at eight." Lexie grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek. As she walked away, Jackson felt some heat rise in his cheeks as well as his excitement about that night.

Instead of going to the on-call room for a nap, Cristina walked over to the ER with an extra coffee. She stood by the counter while watching Owen from a distance. He had an intense looks on his face, giving orders to residents and studying charts carefully before scribbling down notes. Some women loved poetry, some women loved bulging muscles, but Cristina had found she was a sucker for a man who could run the hell out of an ER. It was incredible that he could go from intense, hardcore ER surgeon to doting, loving boyfriend in seconds. Just watching him, in combination with her new knowledge about this being the same man with a ring hidden under the kitchen sink, gave her the kind of rush she hadn't felt since the beginning of their relationship.

Once things had slowed down a little bit, she leaned against the counter seductively.

"Hey, Red," she called. Owen looked around and when he spotted her, a bemused smile reached his face.

"Hey yourself," he growled, walking over and planting a kiss on her. Cristina put her arms around him and just looked at him for a moment. Apparently it was a moment too long because Owen seemed to notice. His brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, yes." Cristina recovered, extracting her hands and smoothing out his scrub top to busy her hands. "I just brought you some coffee." He saw the coffee on the counter and smiled.

"Oh, you're the best." Cristina waved a hand nonchalantly and smiled up at him again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he said, bemused at her good humor.

"You make me smile, isn't that a good thing?"

"You have some heart surgery today or something, don't you?" Cristina must have had "something suspicious" plastered on her forehead or something. So she took the out.

"Yes, actually…in a of couple hours. Always puts me in a good mood." It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a _big _surgery, but it was cardio.

"I know you…you don't walk around with smiles like that for nothing." Owen's pager went off and he sighed. "Five minutes out…here we go again." Owen gave her another kiss. "Keep up this good mood and I'll have a surprise for you tonight." Cristina felt like someone had lit a fire inside of her—a crazy mix of excitement and anxiety. Thank goodness it would be tonight, she couldn't take much more of this breathless anticipation.

"Pass the popcorn?" Mark grabbed the bowl and passed it to Callie as she sat on the couch next to him.

"Bathroom. Be back in thirty seconds. Time me!" Mark called, running to the bathroom. Callie laughed

"That better not include hand-washing time or no more popcorn for you," Callie replied. She rolled her eyes and her eyes fell back on the television screen. On it was a mother complaining about how expensive diapers were and how whatever brand had the best leak-guard. She felt a pang in her chest as she saw the little baby crawling slowly on the carpet with a big smile plastered on his face. Before she knew it, she felt a few tears splash down her face as she saw the mother laughing and snuggling up to the baby in the closing shot.

"How'd I do?"

"What? Oh—" Callie quickly dabbed her eyes with her sleeve and cleared her throat. "Thirty-five seconds…"

"Damn…oh well—hey, you okay? What happened?"

"Just this stupid diaper commercial," Callie said, her voice shaky. "I'm sorry…I know I'm a mess. I just never realized just how much I wanted a child until the whole Arizona fiasco. Now it's all I can think about, and my dream is even farther out of my reach than before. I'm starting to wonder if it'll ever happen."

"Hey, it's okay…" Mark said calmly, putting an arm around Callie as she snuggled into his shoulder. "I actually understand. I know I don't look it, but I'm no spring chicken…and seeing those people walk away with my grandson…" Mark's eyes were unfocused as he thought back to that day months ago. He felt the same pang in his heart all over again. Callie looked up and gave his chest a light rub and sighed. A few moments later she let out a noise of amusement.

"Mark, why aren't we married with lots of kids running around here? Life would be easy. Why can't things be easy?"

"I have no idea, babe." They both sighed as their unfocused eyes faced the television, Callie's supposedly rhetorical question still hanging heavily in the room.

Cristina lay on the couch in her apartment, fighting the urge to go back into their room and stare at the ring some more. It was so classic and simple…so much so that the thought of wearing it didn't bother her except for how it got in the way of surgery. Cristina wondered how long that ring had been in there. _Maybe he had just put it there the other day. Maybe he'd had it for weeks…months. Maybe it was the ring he'd given Beth._ She felt a chill run down her spine at the thought. _No…there's no way her and the Pink One and I could ever like the same ring. _And Owen wouldn't recycle.

What was more likely was that Owen had gotten this ring for her—and only her. _Maybe it was passed down his family for year and years and years._ Cristina felt her heart rate quicken at the thought. It absolutely seemed like the kind of thing he would do. And at least it beat the hell out of that stupid Burke family choker that lived up to its name all too well. She jumped as she heard a key enter the lock and the door swing open. Owen had a small brown bag and a big smile on his face.

"Hey, beautiful." He turned off the TV and sat on the edge of the couch next to her. Cristina sat up against the armrest, and she gave him a kiss. She found herself just bursting to say she'd marry him. She almost felt the need to hold her breath to keep her from blurting it out. "Wait, I'm burning up in this shirt." She watched as Owen stood up and continued back to the room, pulling off his shirt. Cristina was momentarily distracted from the ring as she watched his muscles gliding gracefully with each sway of his body.

Owen returned a minute later with one of his classically tight-fitting shirts. He had washed his face too.

"So, where's my big surprise?" Cristina asked, her eyes bright.

"What…I'm not enough?" Cristina raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

"You coming home is hardly a surprise." Owen sighed and smiled back at her.

"I guess not. Well, you'll get your surprise in a few minutes. But I just wanted to tell you that I love how happy you were all day. I'm sure the days off helped, but I'm just really happy and I don't ever want to take our time together for granted." Owen smiled at her and gave her another kiss, a deeper one. The tingles of anticipation were coursing through Cristina's body, making the touch of his mouth cause her to all but explode. He pulled away and Cristina, with an irrepressible smile on her face, looked expectantly down at Owen's hands. They were empty.

"That's quite the little speech…" she said, quietly. Owen shrugged and turned slightly red.

"Well…when you were down in the ER today…you were so happy and it was contagious. It brightened the rest of my day. And I wanted you to know that. You should know these things. I'm using my words, see?"

"Huh, well, it feels like you're buttering me up." Cristina smiled, pulling him closer by the neck of his shirt. Owen snorted.

"You don't _need _buttering anymore. I've already snagged you."

"Is that so?" Cristina said with mock indignation, as Owen nodded with fake solemnity. Owen then laughed and started kissing the crook of her neck. As usual, Cristina fidgeted slightly and giggled at the tickle of his beard. "And the surprise? What is it, if it isn't an attempt to butter me up?" she asked, waiting for the small blue box to pop out.

"Oh…well, you may not need butter, but you do need wine. I got the '05 Bouscat you keep saying you wanted to taste…which hopefully won't end up on the carpet like this did." Owen said, his eyes looking at the red wine stain on the carpet from that morning. "I'll pour us a couple glasses." Owen got up and rummaged in the drawers for the wine opener. While he did, Cristina fought against the cold disappointment that hit her as she realized the ring was still hidden snugly in the bucket under the sink—right where she had left it.

_The truth is, we don't know what we want until we want it. In fact, we might even think it's the one thing that we don't want. But that's self-discovery, that's change, that's life. So it's no surprise that when we finally do discover what it is we want, we'll stop at nothing to go out there and get it._


	12. Episode 12: Emotions

Author: shli

**Emotions**

_There are supposedly six emotions that can be recognized cross-culturally: anger, disgust, happiness, fear, surprise, and sadness. We all recognize them because we feel them in similar ways, regardless of what walk of life or where in the world we're from. They unite us, entwining every single soul into the collective human experience. They connect us, so that we are not ever truly alone._

Lexie walked through the doors of the locker room humming – a catchy song that everyone knew the melody of but not the name or lyrics. The sidelong glances from the curious hospital staff who'd heard about the reason behind her leave of absence didn't faze her in the least. She was the epitome of blissful oblivion.

It was all because of her date with Jackson. Or rather, dates. Since their night of ice cream and wine at home, he'd taken her out almost every single day. To a park, to a movie, to an ice skating rink – the kind of cheesy romantic dates that she'd always wished to be taken on. There was an innocent sweetness to it all: the hand-holding, the natural and easy conversations, and the chaste kisses goodnight. He really meant to take things slow, and she appreciated his patience as she eased back into a world that weighed less and less on her shoulders.

She barely registered the fact that she was passing by the corridor in which she'd faced down the gunman. There was no falter in her step, no rush of residual fear. She kept going, all the way to the nurses' station to await Bailey's assignments for the day.

"What's wrong with you?" a voice from behind her said, popping her dreamy haze.

Lexie whirled around to find Alex approaching her. "Oh, hi," she said brightly, catching Alex by surprise. The last thing he expected from Lexie at this juncture was this cheerfulness. It was as if they'd gone back in time – before the breakup, before the breakdown, before the shooting.

"You're so …happy," Alex said, instantly regretting it. Who was he to judge her for being able to move on? Just because he couldn't didn't mean that he should drag others down with him.

"Yeah… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Alex shook his head. "Forget it." He made to move away, but Lexie's hand on his arm stopped him.

"No, Alex, I'm sorry. I know what it's like to watch someone you care about move on before you. And it totally sucks. You're my friend… I don't like seeing you like this."

"Like what?" Alex replied defensively. He didn't do feelings. Feelings made him vulnerable. He had let his feelings get the better of him with Izzie and look where he was now. As much as he resented her, he still missed her. Being with Lexie had helped fill a small piece of that void, but it hadn't been enough. These days, he feared that nothing would ever be enough.

Lexie knew him too well and saw past the walls he so painstakingly built to keep people out. "Like this," she said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to do this by yourself, Alex. It's okay to ask for help."

"I don't—" he stopped himself. He did need help, and he knew it. His whole life, he had gone it alone: first when caring for his mother, then with Ava. At least with Izzie, he hadn't been completely by himself.

But then, he didn't see Meredith or Cristina moving to a trailer in the middle of the woods with scary ass bears and unreliable running water. Or making sure she took her meds on time. Or helping her choose a wig so that people wouldn't stare at her and only see the cancer.

He had all this rage burning inside him. He had raised two siblings when he should have been having fun and being a teenager. He had taken care of a woman who wasn't married to him. He had loved someone who'd left him without a word.

He needed help.

"Give me Dr. Wyatt's number."

* * *

Cristina tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Meredith to respond to her 911 page. When that didn't settle her anxiety, she took to pacing in front of the gurney that they'd all sat on as interns whilst lamenting the difficulties of their lives.

"You paged?" Meredith asked as she turned the corner and saw her friend. A twinge of sadness tugged at her heart as she was reminded, as she always was when she came down here, that this was where she'd told Cristina that she was pregnant the first time. She subconsciously placed a hand on her growing belly.

"There you are," Cristina said, grabbing Meredith's hand and setting her down onto the gurney. "Where have you been? I paged you _hours _ago."

Meredith smiled at her _slight_ exaggeration. She had gotten here seven minutes after she'd received the page. "Sorry, I had to pee. I swear this kid is sitting on my bladder."

Cristina paused and placed a hand on top of Meredith's. "Is everything okay?" Even though she knew that she wasn't supposed to feel any movement, the stillness still worried Cristina. She desperately hoped for Meredith to have a successful pregnancy.

"Everything's fine," she said reassuringly. "We got our first ultrasound picture yesterday. I got you a copy." Meredith reached into the pocket of her scrub top and handed it to the future godmother.

"It's puny. You need to eat more. Here, munch on this." Cristina grabbed the bag of chips she'd bought from the nearby vending machine and handed it to her. When it looked as though Meredith was about to protest, Cristina merely glared her into submission. She wasn't budging. Meredith sighed and popped a ranch-flavored potato chip in her mouth.

"So, what did you page me here for? Wait… Are we finally engaged?" Meredith looked at Cristina's ring finger but realized that a naked ring finger didn't mean anything when it came to Cristina.

"Ugh, no. That's what I paged you down here for. I'm going crazy! I'm in total proposal paranoia. Yesterday, I saw him reaching for something from under the sink, and I thought he was grabbing the ring. He wasn't. He was getting dishwasher soap. This morning, he told me that he had a question. I'm thinking that it's 'Will you marry me?' He wanted to know if we could go out tonight because he didn't feel like cooking. A few nights ago, he told me he had a surprise then went into this speech about how he loves that I'm happy. How me being happy makes him happy. And so I thought, 'He's totally going to propose.' But did he? No. All I got was wine… Let me tell you, I'm definitely not _happy _now."

Meredith laughed. She never would have imagined seeing Cristina getting so upset over _not _being proposed to. Not long ago, she would have been running in the opposite direction. It was quite a sight.

"Hey! You're supposed to more sympathetic."

"Sorry," Meredith said, covering a snicker. Cristina raised an eyebrow at her. "But this is sort of payback for when Derek was the one holding onto a ring, and you were keeping it a secret from me."

"First of all, we were fighting. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. And then… Well, then Webber told you, so you found out anyway. _I _had to find out on my own."

"So, you paged me to vent your frustrations to me because you obviously can't to Owen?"

"Yes… No. I was also going to ask you to casually drop a hint to hurry it up. I know I said that I wouldn't rush him, but the waiting is killing me." Cristina plopped onto the gurney next to Meredith and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.

Meredith reached into her lab coat pocket for the cup of chocolate pudding she always carried around with her these days in case she had a craving and peeled back the lid. Realizing she didn't have a spoon, she took one of the chips, dipped it into the pudding, and ate it as though it were chips and salsa.

"Gross. What are you eating?"

"Chips and chocolate pudding," Meredith replied. "It's not so bad. Wanna try?" She lifted a pudding-covered chip towards Cristina's mouth.

"Ew. Get that away from me. That's disgusting. Pregnancy cravings are weird. And in your case, unhealthy."

"Whatever. She told me I should eat whatever I feel like. The baby wants chips and chocolate pudding? Then I'm eating chips and chocolate pudding. Yum." She popped another one of her concoctions into her mouth.

"Seriously, I can't watch you eat that. I'm going to puke." Indeed, Cristina did look a little paler.

Meredith wrinkled her nose. "Look, I'm done. See?" She displayed her empty hands before licking her fingers. "Just wait till you're pregnant. I'm going to make fun of you. I bet you're going to have weirder cravings than me. And bigger mood swings."

Cristina scoffed outwardly. But secretly, she agreed with Meredith. Thank goodness Owen was a steadfast and tolerant man because she had a feeling she was going to give him a run for his money if she ever got pregnant.

"So, what are you going to do? With Owen?" Meredith asked, having finally licked off all traces of salt from her fingers.

Cristina sighed. "Nothing. I'm going to put on a dress, go to the fancy French restaurant we'd been waiting a month to get into, and pretend that I don't know about the ring."

Meredith threaded her arm through Cristina's. "Hang in there. It's going to happen." And it would be soon, if Owen knew what was best for him.

* * *

_Hey, Mark, remember how I joked that we should shack up and pop out a million rugrats? Well, I wasn't completely kidding,_ Callie thought to herself, practicing how to talk to her best friend. It was a weird feeling for her to not know what to say to him. They could always be honest with each other, but lately, she'd been keeping a secret – a secret about her renewed desire to have children…with a little help from him.

The human McSteamy had been noticeably absent from her and the feline McSteamy's apartment for the past few nights. Each time, he'd come up with some excuse to stay away: an emergency surgery, being too tired, or having a night out with the boys. _What a liar_, she thought, shaking her head at his ridiculous excuses. She knew why he was staying away. It was because she opened her mouth and crossed some invisible line in their unlabeled relationship.

They weren't just friends. They were no longer lovers. And they'd never been boyfriend and girlfriend. They were supposed to be easy, being there for sexual needs and emotional support. That was it. No strings, no white picket fence.

But that was then.

Things were so different now. Mark had a daughter and grandson somewhere out there. Callie had two ex-girlfriends and an aching uterus. Their priorities had shifted from career to starting a family without them even realizing it. The manwhore and the sexually ambiguous girl Peter Pan were growing up, but the people around them just couldn't get on board with their new vision of what they wanted their lives to look like. Lexie ran off scared, and Arizona ended things angrily.

They basically only had each other now.

"Torres, you paged me for a consult?" The sound of Mark's familiar timber shocked Callie from her reverie. Mark came inside the on-call room door, staring down at his pager as though he were willing it to go off and take him away.

"I lied." Mark looked up in surprise. "I mean, I do need you for a consult…in a way…but it's not for a patient. It's about me – us. It's about us." Callie consciously stopped herself from rambling and making things more awkward.

"Uh," Mark replied, clearing his throat. "What about us?" He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and pretended casual ignorance. But he knew. He knew exactly what she meant.

"You know…the getting married and having babies thing. I was kidding—"

"I knew that," Mark interjected with an uncomfortable laugh.

"No, I mean I _was _kidding, but…" She let the sentence dangle in the air between them like a proverbial elephant in the room.

"…but…?"

Callie sighed and massaged her temple. This wasn't going very well. What she wanted to ask of him wasn't fair. She'd grown up with the idea of the husband, the two kids, and the dog. Then her career happened, then George, and then Erica. The vision that she'd had, it had changed. But now she wanted it again.

She took a deep breath and aimed for direct honesty. "I've been thinking… Look, I care about you, and you care about me. And we love each other. Maybe not in the 'head over heels' way, but in the 'I'll always be there for you' way. And we're already raising McSteamy together. A kid wouldn't be _so_ much harder. I mean, there'd be two of us. How hard could it be? Meredith and Derek are going to do it, and we'd make much better parents then them… You know what? It'd be like you're helping out a lesbian. You said you love lesbians. Do it for the lesbians, Mark."

Mark was struck speechless. He had an infinite amount of unfinished thoughts racing around in his mind, and he didn't know where to start. It was a _crazy_ proposal. Settling down with Callie and having kids? And yet… And yet, the picture that Callie painted called to him as a siren would to wayward sailors. One big, happy family – unconventional, maybe, but definitely happy.

After a moment, he opened his mouth to answer, not even sure which answer would fall from his lips, but the punctuating sound of his pager cut him short.

"911," he said for Callie's benefit.

She nodded wordlessly.

Mark could read the disappointment in her eyes, but there was nothing he could do – not now, at least. Not when there was this big decision hanging over both their heads that warranted serious contemplation. With a final glance behind him, Mark gave Callie a look of torn apology and left with a heavy heart.

* * *

Alex fidgeted in his seat, feeling like he was back in the principal's office again rather than a psychiatrist's couch. Wyatt had managed to squeeze him in between appointments. They had thirty minutes before her next patient; and ten minutes in, Alex still had yet to speak.

Knowing what Alex had gone through during the shooting, Wyatt had felt it best to see him sooner than later. One never knew when the dam would break with trauma victims. At present, it seemed as though Alex had quite a bit to get off his chest. She'd reluctantly cleared him for surgery, recognizing his amazing ability to cope with difficult situations. He'd never gone into details, but she could tell that he hadn't had an easy time of it. She'd heard about Ava/Rebecca and Izzie. It couldn't have been easy, and yet he'd survived.

She wasn't surprised at his reticence. It had been her experience that these group of surgeons were not the talking type. The trauma counseling post-shooting had been draining, but who better to have done it than one of the hospital's own?

"I'm angry…all the time," Alex finally said. "I just…" He hung his head in defeat.

"This is good. You're putting a label to what you're feeling. That's the first step."

Alex scoffed. "So, now that I know I'm angry, I'm all cured? Great, doc. I guess I can go now."

"No, I said it was the _first _step. You've still got a long way to go, but coming here was a start. You recognized the need to deal with your problems instead of pushing them aside and taking on more burdens."

"Like with Lexie…" Alex offered.

"What happened between you and Lexie?" Wyatt asked.

"I broke things off with her because I didn't want to have to take care of another person. Plus, she's got Jackson now… and she's happy. She wasn't really happy when she was with me. First, she was still hung up on Mark. And second, she was using me as some sort of rebound guy."

"And you? Were you happy?"

"Maybe… I don't know. Well, Izzie came back after Lexie and I had already started sleeping with each other again. Then, I sent her away. Izzie, that is. And then… Then, Lexie wanted me to tell her if we were a 'thing,' and I said yes."

"Why did you say yes when you knew that both of you weren't in the right place for a new relationship?"

"Because we were lonely. And Izzie was gone for good this time. It's not like I don't care about Lexie. I do. I just don't…can't…love her."

"Did she ask you to?"

"No…"

"So, why do you think you have to love her?"

"Because… Isn't that what women want? Sex can't be just sex – not for girls like Lexie. Girls like her want the romance; they want a relationship."

"How did she react when you broke things off? Was she hurt or angry?"

"She was fine." Alex paused, letting the words sink in. "She's fine," he repeated, finally accepting it. The weight from the guilt he hadn't realized he'd carried was lifted. He'd done the right thing in ending things. He hadn't abandoned her. And Lexie was happy, thanks to a guy who could possibly love her back in the way she deserved.

Wyatt quietly closed her notebook and crossed her legs. "You're a good man, Alex. Behind all that anger that you hide behind, you're a good man. And other people can see it, too."

Alex nodded.

"Well, that's all the time we have for today. But I want to see you once a week. You can make an appointment with the receptionist outside."

Alex stood up and headed for the door.

"Alex?"

He turned around.

"Great work today."

"Thanks," he said and closed the door behind him.

* * *

"Did I mention that you look absolutely beautiful?" Owen whispered into her ear as he pulled out Cristina's chair so she could sit down.

"Mmm… You don't look so bad yourself," Cristina replied with a smile, disguising all traces of her frustration from earlier that day. Of course, seeing Owen all dolled up in a pristine Armani suit had its way of making her forget many things.

It was the first time they'd had a chance to sit down and have a conversation longer than five minutes since they'd woken up and gone to work together. Cristina had been stuck in the OR all afternoon with an aortic repair while Owen had dealt with the victims of a multi-vehicle freeway accident.

"Your wine," a sommelier said, appearing out of nowhere. Before Cristina could register his presence, their wine glasses were full and the man had disappeared.

Cristina took a whiff and nodded with approval. "Good stuff," she murmured as she sipped from her glass. "How'd they know which wine we wanted?"

"I called ahead," Owen explained. "It took me a month to get a reservation. I want everything to be perfect."

"Where's our menu?"

"It's a _prix fixe_ with seven courses. Don't worry, if you don't like something, you can give it to me. But I'm pretty sure you're going to like it."

"Oh, fancy restaurants and their set menus. Reminds me of those event dinners with my parents. Couldn't drink wine back then, so this is a treat." To emphasize her point, Cristina took another sip of her wine.

Owen looked at her with a contemplative expression. Cristina wiped at her mouth with her napkin self-consciously. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Owen shook his head, reaching across the table to cover her hand with his. "You look perfect. I was just thinking…"

"About…?"

"I need to take you out more, give you a reason to wear a dress." He eyed her high heels and bare legs with an appreciative smile.

Cristina laughed. "The scrubs don't do it for you?"

"_You _do it for me." He winked.

Before Cristina could come back with a retort, a server appeared on her right. "Your amuse bouche: crab and avocado."

"Thank you." When the server left, Cristina turned to Owen and said, "Mmm… Crab cake. Don't worry, no need for you to eat this one for me." The morsel disappeared into her mouth with one bite.

Owen chuckled as he ate his own.

Finished with the first course and awaiting the second, Cristina took the opportunity to observe her surroundings. Her gaze stayed a moment on another couple nearby their table. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something had made them stand out to her. Maybe it was how young they were. They barely looked old enough to drink, let alone to have jobs that could allow them to afford such an expensive place. _No, that isn't it…_

She brushed off the feeling and returned her focus back to Owen. "Oh, I forgot. Did you see the first picture of our godson? I think I brought it…" Cristina reached into her purse and retrieved her wallet. "Yep, here." She handed the small black and white photo to Owen.

"Cute," Owen replied, brushing his thumb across the glossy surface with a hint of longing. He quickly gave it back. "Derek showed me earlier today. Actually, I think he showed everyone in the hospital. Even the new batch of interns."

"Typical male pride… Are you going to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"Show off the first sonogram of our kid?"

Owen hesitated. She was full of surprises these days. First weddings and now babies. He could feel hope bubble within him. He shrugged, purposefully nonchalant. "Probably. But I bet you'd hand them out like party favors."

"Ha. You're probably right about that." Cristina sat back in her chair, lost in her thoughts. She had to admit, there was a part of her that wished the baby in the sonogram was hers and Owen's. But Owen hadn't even proposed to her yet. What made her think they would be ready for children when he couldn't even ask her to marry him? She sighed.

Just then, she got a movement from the male half of the couple she'd been watching earlier – the couple that had caught her attention. It was as though he was moving in slow motion: his seat moving back, his knee meeting the ground, his hand reaching for hers, his fingers holding an engagement ring. A ring, Cristina noticed, that still had traces of whip cream on it. _Of course he put it in the dessert. _Then, in a flash, all hell broke loose. The young, blonde woman screamed with glee, sobbing hysterically as she nodded yes. Her male counterpart stood up and awkwardly slipped the rather humble piece of jewelry on her awaiting finger. She didn't seem to care. A group of restaurant staff members crowded around them and offered their congratulations as everyone else clapped.

Everyone, that is, except for Cristina.

She sat there frozen in disbelief. She barely registered Owen's reluctant applause as she stared at the happy couple. This was the last straw. She couldn't stand it anymore.

Whipping the cloth napkin from her lap, she flung it haphazardly onto the table and stood up. In the pandemonium, only Owen noticed, and he turned to her with a quizzical look on his face.

"Are you kidding me?" Cristina shouted. Now, people were looking at her. She walked over to Owen's side of the table, standing there with her hands on her hips. "_They_ are going to get engaged before we do?"

The "they" in question turned to look at her.

Cristina faced them, slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that you two will be very happy together…grow old together and all that. Though, I'm guessing the 'old' part won't be for a while," she muttered under her breath. She turned her attention back to Owen. "I found the ring, Owen. Under the kitchen sink where the cleaning supplies are, where you thought I'd never find it. I found it – forever and a day ago. Meredith told me that you got it from your mom ages ago, and I promised her that I'd wait for you to propose when you were ready. I mean, obviously you're ready because you got the ring… But it's driving me insane, this waiting. I can't do it anymore. _I'm_ ready. I love you. I will always love you. Forty or fifty years from now, I'll still love you. And I want it in writing – legally recognized writing, not some flimsy Post-it – that we are stuck together for better or worse. I want my parents to breathe a sigh of relief that I've finally found the right guy. I want your mother to be my mother. I want us to be married and so ridiculously happy that Derek and Meredith can't even compete… I want it all…" Running out of steam, she looked at Owen, expectantly. "So, are you going to ask me? At least you already know what my answer is going to be."

Despite usually being the type to avoid public displays such as these, Owen made an exception on this important and life-altering occasion.

He sheepishly gave a low chuckle, nonverbally conveying his apology to the riveted crowd surrounding them. Taking Cristina's hand, he got down on knee – as many men had done before him – in the age-old position of proper proposing. "I had planned on taking you to the West Point Lighthouse after this and make up for our first date that never happened, to show you the Northern Lights and to propose to you under the stars. But this fits us better… Things rarely go as planned when it comes to us… I didn't plan on getting into a car accident and ending up in Seattle Grace. I didn't plan on coming back from Iraq damaged and disillusioned. And I definitely didn't plan on falling in love with you…but I did." With his free hand, he took out the ring that had been in his family for generations and presented it to the woman who would soon be joining the fold. "Cristina Yang, will you marry me?"

To her surprise, tears welled up in Cristina's eyes. She'd never imagine that she'd react the same way as the other newly engaged woman ("woman" in the loosely defined sense). "Yes," she managed to say before Owen swept her into his arms and kissed her.

As the diners once again broke out into applause, Cristina broke the kiss and whispered to Owen, "You better not tell anyone that I cried."

Owen simply laughed and kissed her again.

_We argue, we cry, we shy away, we laugh, we startle, we wrinkle our nose – we do it all, we feel it all: the six universal emotions. We recognize them in each other. But there's one emotion that ties them all together… And that emotion is love. It's why we can't capture love in a snapshot or a single look. Because love is this multi-faceted experience that comes in different shades, all equally valid. It's the constant in our lives' equation of ever-varying emotions: always there, but not always the same._


	13. Season Finale: Have Love Will Travel

Authors: angelamermaid, hopecrowe, jennifromtheblock, lovemesomeowen, and shli

**Season 6.5 Finale: "Have Love, Will Travel"  
**

_Our lives are made of millions of proverbial forks in the road. What if we'd come home from leave a day later or rolled out of the way as an icicle came hurtling down? Or if we hadn't picked up a guy at a bar or moved to Seattle to escape a broken marriage? Or if we'd stayed in the trailer park or never been assigned to a case with a charismatic heart patient? If we had picked the other path, life as we know it could have been completely different. A wrong turn here or a right turn there – it almost doesn't matter what choice we make as some unforeseen power beyond our control seems to be conducting this ride that is our life. And sometimes, all we can do is sit back and enjoy while fate leads the way._

"What do you think of this?" Helen Rubenstein asked, shoving yet another picture of a wedding dress in front of Cristina's face – way too close for her to even focus on the image.

Cristina took the magazine away from her mother before it ended up whacking her in the nose. She looked down at the dress that her mother had been trying to show her. All she saw was white and poofy.

"Mom, I'm _so _not wearing this. I don't do Cinderella dresses," she said, handing it back. She absent-mindedly played with her engagement ring. The weight of the ring still felt odd on her finger. She was still debating whether or not she should wear it; but being that she was in its previous owner's house, she thought it necessary to wear here at least. Every now and then, she'd catch herself looking at it, as if to remind herself that yes, this was all happening. She was getting married.

Helen pouted. She still had not resigned herself to the fact that she just wasn't going to get a wedding worthy of Princess Diana out of Cristina. After all, what was the point of having a daughter if it wasn't to plan the most extravagant of weddings? Sure, the last one didn't turn out as well, but second time's the charm. She was about to say so when she was interrupted Owen's mother.

"Would you like some more tea?" Sarah Hunt asked, walking into the living room with a fresh pot of tea. Cristina smiled graciously at her future mother-in-law, thankful for her perfect timing in saving her from getting an earful.

Mrs. Hunt's house had become bridal planning central since Helen flew in to "help" with the wedding planning. "Overtake" was more like it. Sarah's soothing presence balanced Helen's more excitable one, and she had a way of subtly getting her mother to agree to things that were more to Cristina's taste. The latest had been to persuade Cristina's mother that a five-tiered wedding cake that could feed three hundred guests was way more than they'd ever need, considering the fact that Cristina didn't expect to have anything close to that amount of guests.

"Yes, please. Thank you." Helen moved her empty cup towards Sarah and went back to flipping through the pages of the bridal magazine. "Then what do you want to get married in, Cristina?"

"Something simple…that isn't white. And nothing with a long train that I'll end up tripping all over."

Helen nearly had a double heart attack. Not white? No train? She bit her lip from saying anything, knowing that it was her daughter's wedding not hers. Her reticence didn't last long. "What do you mean you don't want a white dress? It's a wedding. Please don't tell me you want black."

"Don't be overdramatic, mom. I just don't want white. It just reminds me of … you know." She gave her mom a pointed look, not wanting to bring up the other wedding in front of Owen's mother. Plus, her mother was convinced it was only going to jinx things if they ever talked about it. It'd become on par with saying "Macbeth" in a theatre. "How about lavender? It's light and _almost _white." She swiveled her laptop so that her mother could see the screen and pointed to a dress she'd found online. "See? That's not so bad, is it?"

Sarah leaned over to take a look as well and gave an approving sigh. It was a gorgeous strapless dress with a full skirt that flowed off the natural curves of the model. Helen reluctantly conceded with a nod of approval.

Just then, the kitchen doors swung open, and Owen walked in with a steaming plate of food. With surprising agility, Helen snapped the laptop lid shut so that Owen wouldn't be able to see the screen. "No looking!"

"What?" Owen asked, setting the plate down and attempting to avert his eyes.

"The wedding dress!" Helen stated matter-of-factly.

"Mom, I think the superstition only applies to him seeing _me _in the dress." The aroma of the food wafted towards her nose. She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, what is that?"

"Shrimp scampi. What's wrong?" Owen asked with a look of concern on his face as he sat down next to her.

"I don't know. I just can't stand the smell." She pushed it away and turned her attention back to the wedding planning discussion that Helen and Sarah were having.

"…church."

"Wait, what church?" Cristina asked, jumping into the conversation belatedly. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to be married in a church. We all know how _that _turned out last time," she muttered under her breath.

Owen reached for her hand underneath the table in a show of comfort and support. "Helen, I think we were looking for something more low-key. Something small. There's no time to plan an extravagant wedding anyway."

"Two weeks!" Helen shook her head. She was still in disbelief that they'd told her of their intention to wed so soon only a little over a month before the date. She'd immediately asked if Cristina was pregnant. What else could explain the desire to get married so soon? But Cristina had vehemently denied it, telling her mother that she just wasn't the engaged type. She didn't believe in it, really. She was either married or not – the in-between business drove her insane. "There's no way we can book a venue on such short notice!"

"Mom, we don't need a 'venue' so much as somewhere than can fit everyone. We're only going to have, like, thirty people. We don't need some fancy hotel or resort. It's just going to be empty."

"You can have it here," Sarah offered, refilling everyone's cups with more tea.

"Here?" Helen looked around, cataloguing everything and silently measuring the space. If her daughter was going to insist on only having a small number of guests, they could fit.

"And we can have the reception in the backyard. It'd be simple enough to rent a tent and the furniture."

"Hmmm… It could work." Helen started jotting down a list in her wedding planning notebook.

Cristina's jaw dropped a bit. This, coming from a woman who had insisted on the grand church wedding with the bridesmaids and the white wedding dress a few years ago. "Really? You're okay with that?"

"What?" Helen gave an exasperated sigh. "I will admit that I was wrong to force a wedding on you that you obviously didn't want, and that obviously didn't end well. You should have the wedding that _you _want."

Her eyes softened as she looked at her daughter. She knew she was hard on her, but she'd wanted Cristina to grow up strong and tough. To be able to survive. She'd been so sad after her father had passed away, and it had pained Helen to see Cristina go through that. So, she'd set to make sure Cristina would be prepared for life's heartbreaks. And that Burke had definitely caused a major one.

"Thanks, mom." Cristina had to cough to clear the lump in her throat. "Right… So, the wedding. Are you sure you're okay with hosting it here, Sarah? It won't be too much of a hassle?"

"No, no, I'd be happy to have it here. It will keep me busy." She patted Cristina's hand. "And I've always wanted to help plan a daughter's wedding." She gave Cristina a doting smile. "Okay, what's next?" she asked, turning to Helen.

Cristina sat there with her hand still joined with Owen's and watched as their mothers worked together on giving her the wedding of her dreams.

* * *

Meredith squirmed uncomfortably in her chair as she checked her watch again.

"Well?" she demanded, as Derek walked towards her. "Please tell me it's our turn soon."

"It's our turn next…" he said, encouragingly. "That's the best I can do right now."

"What good is it that you're Chief of Surgery if I still have to wait forty minutes for my appointment?" she grumbled as he sat down. "Do you know how much water I had to drink for this?"

Derek sighed and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry I can't pull rank. It won't be much longer. Let's talk about something else."

"Please. Distract me. I'm desperate."

"I've decided I want to know the sex of the baby."

"Really? That's so great because you know I want to know, and I thought you didn't want to know, and I can't know if you don't know because we both know I can't keep that kind of secret from you…or at least my face can't…"

He smiled. "Good. We're in agreement then. We're finding out. I think it's good. We can decorate the nursery. People will know what to bring to the shower. No surprises."

Meredith shifted again. "Keep talking. I'm about to burst here."

Noting his expression, she added, "Too much information?"

"Way too much, but I'm overlooking it," he replied. "I've been thinking about names…"

"Anything good so far?"

"If it's a boy I'd like to name him after my father."

She thought for a moment. "That's a really nice idea. I'm fine with that. And if it's a girl? Because we're not naming her after my mother!" she laughed.

"Actually, I've got an idea for that, too. I'm still working on the first name, but I think her middle name should be Cristina."

Meredith's mouth dropped open. "I would love that. I'm just…surprised, I guess."

"Why? She's your best friend and we owe her, well, everything."

"Okay. That's settled then. So now we just need a girl's first name …"

A door opened and a technician appeared with a clipboard. "Meredith Grey?"

They looked up in unison. "That's me!" Meredith said. "Thank goodness."

To Meredith's relief there was hardly any wait at all once they were called back for her appointment. In a matter of minutes she found herself covered in sticky gel as the technician moved the ultrasound wand across her expanding belly. Then it happened. Meredith saw a flicker cross the woman's face. It was a fraction of a second, but it was there. Her fears seemed to be confirmed as "Nancy", according to her name badge, checked over Meredith's chart.

"Everything all right?" Meredith asked, trying to remain calm.

Derek, who had missed the telltale look, glanced over with concern on his face.

"Everything's fine," Nancy replied. "But I want to show you something. You're both doctors, right? See that?"

Meredith and Derek looked at the screen, eyes opened wide.

"What?" Meredith exclaimed as Derek said, "Twins?"

Nancy laughed. "Yup. Twins. Surprise!"

"But…I already had an ultrasound. I don't understand…" Meredith stammered.

Nancy smiled. "Yes, but that was very early in your pregnancy. The second baby was playing hide and seek. It happens more often than you'd think. Let's take a look at Baby A. See?" she pointed at the screen. "There's your baby's brain. There's the spinal column. There's the heart. The lungs. Arms and hands. Legs and feet. Everything's developing very well. Do you want to know the sex?" They nodded in unison.

"Baby A is a boy. See? Right there…"

Meredith looked up at Derek. He had tears in his eyes.

"Okay," Nancy continued, "let's take a look at Baby B." She fussed with the equipment for a moment, getting a different angle. "Everything's good here, too. And Baby B is a girl."

They looked at each other in amazement, laughing and crying at the same time.

"So much for no surprises!" said Meredith. "Are we done now? I've really got to pee."

"Go ahead," Nancy said, helping Meredith off of the table. "We're done."

As Meredith walked away she turned back to Derek. "You okay with this?"

"I'm more than okay," Derek grinned. "Go!"

"I'm going! I'm going!" she said merrily, scurrying off to find the nearest bathroom.

Derek took the photos that Nancy was offering him. He felt a little shaken.

"Are you really alright?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice unsteady. "I'm just feeling really lucky right now."

Glancing at the pictures of Baby B, he added, "And isn't that just like you to turn up unexpectedly like that? Just like your namesake. Are you going to kick me out of bed, too? Somehow...with you...I don't think I'll mind at all."

* * *

Callie's suggestion weighed heavily on Mark as he mindlessly flipped through patient charts at the nurses' station. Callie was special to him. He was happy when he was with her, and she'd never made him feel bad about living life the way he did. In fact, it was Callie that first made him realize that he could expect more of himself. _"You're good for more than just sex, Mark," _she had once told him with a brilliant smile.

"Mark, are you free for a consult?" Arizona's voice called him back from his ruminations and back to reality.

"What?"

"A consult. I've got a seven-year old with what I think are second-degree burns and… Are you listening to me?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry…just a little distracted."

"Is it about…What's going on?"

"It's Callie." Mark started, confirming her initial suspicions. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Arizona looked uncomfortable and bit her lip. "Have you talked to her lately?"

"What? No. No, we haven't really talked since our…well, since we broke up." Arizona cleared her throat, forcing herself to have this conversation. She couldn't spend the rest of her life running away whenever someone mentioned Callie. "Why? Is she okay?"

"Yeah…she suggested something that is making me think and I—I don't know." Mark said, uncertainly. Arizona probably wasn't the best person to be talking to about this, but then again…maybe she was exactly the right person. "She suggested that we should have a baby and live together. And be a family." Arizona was taken aback. She felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Slowly, she regained her ability to breathe. As she did, she considered the situation from a more objective point of view, moving past her initial reaction as a scorned ex-girlfriend. She thought of Callie as her friend and realized that this was right. Arizona would have never been able to give Callie what she needed to be happy, and Mark could. He wanted that.

"Well, I guess that makes sense," Arizona said, finally. Mark looked at her in surprise.

"I thought you'd want to talk me out of it," Mark said with a small laugh. "Like try to protect your territory and convince me that I'm crazy."

"I'm not that petty…" Arizona said, waving her hand carelessly. "Well, not anymore, anyway. I'm past that phase of the breakup. I want her to be happy and you can do that for her. She'll—" Arizona stopped and composed herself for a moment. "She's going to be an amazing mother. Callie has a huge heart… It would be a crime to keep any child away from having a mother like her."

"So you're saying that this isn't a crazy idea. That this could work. I should do this?" Mark asked, his usually jocular expression replaced with one seeking validation.

"I'm saying that I want to see her happy, and I think you might be the only one that can do that for her." Arizona gave him a small smile and patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Now come with me. I have a seven-year old with burns…"

* * *

"I would never have pictured this a year ago," Jackson mused, as he walked through the front doors of the hospital, holding Lexie's hand.

"That you work here and not at Mercy West?" She smiled, squeezing his hand.

"There's that," he grinned. "But what really surprises me is how…_good_…everything feels." He leaned in and kissed her.

"Mmm," she said. "Yes, that feels _good_."

"Good morning," Alex said, walking up to them. "Avery, you're with me on Robbins' service today."

"Oh. Okay." Jackson shuffled his feet nervously as Lexie looked at the floor.

"You don't have to be all embarrassed," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "You make a cute couple. You're a Hallmark commercial."

Jackson chuckled as Lexie giggled. "You're looking better," she told Alex shyly.

"That's what Dr. Wyatt says," he said, passing a binder to Jackson. "Arizona wants you to go over this case before we meet up on rounds. See you in ten." He walked away.

The two lovers looked at each other. Jackson noticed the color in Lexie's cheeks.

"I'm so happy he's seeing Dr Wyatt," she whispered. "He never really got over Izzie, you know. I hope this means he's moving on with his life."

Jackson half-smiled nervously, noting the color in her cheeks, a small gesture that Lexie noticed.

"And I'm moving on with my life," she assured him, giving him a quick peck. "With you."

* * *

"Have you seen Melissa Conrad's chart?" Cristina asked Owen, leaning on a nearby desk.

"Nope. You can ask over there at the desk. They probably have it."

"Nah, I already asked." Cristina popped herself onto a nearby gurney and shut her eyes. "I'm so bored. The ER is supposed to be teeming with bleeding bodies and people screaming in agony. It's just so s—"

"Don't say it!" Owen said quickly, cutting her off. Cristina sighed and opened her eyes. Propping herself up on her elbow, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the superstition.

"Fine. I'm just saying I'm bored and—" Cristina was cut off this time by her phone. She opened it cautiously, and Owen eyed her with amusement.

"Afraid it's going to bite you?" he asked, trying to understand her bizarre expression. Cristina sat up, but instead of saying anything, she simply pursed her lips and turned her phone towards Owen. He squinted and saw a small and very pink picture looking back at him. He stepped closer and saw that it was from Cristina's mother.

"Oh…how often has she been—"

"Every five seconds. She is driving me crazy. I know she's trying to think of what I want, but sometimes we just have such different tastes and..."

"And…it reminds you of your first wedding?" Owen asked quietly.

"I didn't walk down the aisle, so it doesn't count as a wedding."

"Well, okay, whatever you call it…this whole thing does remind you of it, right?" Owen's voice was very quiet and had a hint of insecurity. He took a seat next to her on the gurney. Cristina took his hand and started tracing all the small lines.

"It has sparked a few memories in my mind, but it's completely involuntary. I'm mostly just happy that your mom is reining her in. Having Mama Burke and my mother planning together was not a pretty sight." Owen laughed. "I'm actually pretty surprised she came out to help plan again."

"Why?"

"Because my heart was not the only one that broke the last time around. She put a lot of effort into that wedding, and it all went to waste." There was a moment of silence, and Owen put his arm around Cristina as she leaned into him.

"So, dare I ask, how are your vows coming?" he asked.

"Um, they're coming. You'll be pleased to know that I actually did start writing some stuff down. But everything just feels so cheesy, even though it's true." Cristina felt herself blush ever so lightly, in spite of herself. "How about you?"

"I have some ideas, too. But I know when we're actually there saying them, all the well-thought out, articulate stuff is going to fly out of my head, and I'll have to improvise."

"That would be such a classic Owen 'go with your gut' Hunt thing to do." They both laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, Owen noticed that Cristina seemed to be playing with her left ring finger quite a bit.

"Have you decided if you're going to wear the ring?"

Cristina looked up at him quickly. "Does it bother you that I'm not wearing it?"

"Cristina, after all we've been through, nothing could upset me as long as we're together."

"Well, that's good to know," she said simply, looking back down. "I have decided, anyway. It's not the ring itself that bothers me; it's just that when I'm here, it gets in the way with surgery. So, I came up with a better idea."

"Using it as a belly ring?" Owen asked, moving to lift up her scrub top to check. Cristina laughed and lightly smacked his hand away.

"No…" Cristina dug her hand just under her shirt and pulled out a thin silver necklace that had the ring dangling at the apex. "That way I'm still wearing it, but it doesn't bother me at work." Owen took the ring in his hands and smiled at her. "And it's closer to my heart," she added, faking a swoon. Owen laughed, but Cristina cringed as she adjusted herself.

"What's wrong?"

"My back has been sore all day; I must have slept on it strangely." Owen slid his arm around her back and gave it a few light squeezes.

"Do we have time for a backrub?" Cristina was already flipping on her stomach expectantly. Owen shook his head and sighed with fake exasperation.

"So this is what I've signed up for, huh?" Owen asked, digging his hands into her back with light pressure.

"Lucky you," Cristina said, her voice muffled as she closed her eyes in relaxation.

"Yes, lucky me." They both smiled.

* * *

Mark heard the familiar step in the corridor, so he grabbed the knob of his front door and swung it open just a little too quickly. Callie reeled back, startled, and dropped her house keys.

"Hey," he said, reaching down and picking up the keys. "I haven't seen you around much the last few days."

She pushed some hair out of her face. "Yeah, uh, crazy busy lately. Surgeries. Tons of surgeries. You know how I love me some broken bones. Busy busy busy with the surgery. Broken bones all over the place. Awesome bones, totally broken." She shuffled a little, feeling horribly awkward and knowing she sounded even more so. She had been avoiding Mark since she had offered him her womb to make some babies, much in the same way he had avoided her when she had joked about the subject in the first place. His failure to respond to her offer told her everything she needed to know. She was feeling ridiculous and humiliated, just wanting to get the hell into her apartment and away from his questioning gaze. She grabbed the keys from him and opened the door before he realized what was happening. "Tired. Exhausted from all those surgeries. I'm going to bed. I'll see you," she mumbled quickly, trying to get inside before she stuck her foot in her mouth again.

"Callie, wait," Mark said, putting his hand up to stop the door from shutting in front of him. "We need to talk about this."

She froze, and he watched her heave a deep sigh before she slowly turned around. "No," she said. "We don't need to talk about it. It was a dumb idea. Forget I ever said anything. I feel like I made everything weird between us, and I don't want that, so just pretend it never happened."

Mark waited a moment, and then quietly stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"It wasn't a dumb idea," he said.

She blinked a few times, not quite sure she understood. "What?"

"You surprised me. I never even thought about the two of us having a baby until you said something and then I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's a great idea. I think we should do it. Have a baby, I mean. We should have a baby."

"We should?" She asked, dumbfounded that he was telling her the complete opposite of what she had expected.

"Yeah. We should. We both want one, and we're both ready. Neither of us is in a relationship right now, and if we keep waiting for the right relationship, it may never happen. Maybe this is our right relationship. You and me."

She waited a moment, and then took a step towards him. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Yes. I am. Completely. We should be parents."

Another long moment passed, and then a huge smile broke out on Callie's face. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"But you're sure you're sure?"

"Torres, do you want to do this or not?"

She let out a giddy laugh and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed, too, and hugged her back.

"Oh my god," she laughed. "We're totally going to do this, aren't we?"

He grinned. "It appears that way."

She pulled back from him. "We are going to be such good parents. We will kick parenting ass."

"You're damn right we will."

Callie turned around and started pacing about the room. "We can put the nursery in Cristina's old room. And I'm going to speak Spanish to the baby because I want her to grow up bilingual. Or him. Whatever it is. Do you think I should breastfeed?" A million thoughts were running through her head all at once. Suddenly, she stopped pacing and turned to Mark with a frown on her face.

"What is it?" He asked, concerned.

"What does this make us? Does this make us a couple? We've been together, but we've never really been a couple. And I know Arizona and I are finished, but that doesn't necessarily mean I don't want to see women ever again. I may want to date a woman in the future. That's a possibility. So what does this make us? What are we?"

"I think," he said slowly, considering, "I think that this will make us a family. And the rest of it…we'll figure that out as we go."

"A family," she repeated. "We're going to be a family." She gave a relieved smile. "Our family. I like it."

"I do, too."

She giggled, and then hugged him again.

"But, you know," he began, "if you did want to bring home another woman sometime, that could be fun, too."

She punched him in the arm. "Is that the kind of thing you want to teach your child?"

"My son, maybe. My daughter? No way in hell."

"You're lucky that's way far into the future, or you might make me think twice about this."

"You won't think twice. As soon as you brought it up, I knew it was the right decision. I just couldn't find you to tell you because you were avoiding me. Don't do that again, okay? From now on we discuss everything. That's what good parents do."

She nodded. "We will discuss everything. And this is the right decision. I know it." At that moment, Callie realized just how momentous the occasion was, and began to cry. Mark folded her back into another bear hug.

"Aw, you can't cry now," he whispered softly into her hair. "You don't even have all the pregnancy hormones yet."

She simultaneously laughed and blubbered into his shirt, and for the first time in a very long time, both of them were happy.

* * *

"Hey, how did this morning go?" Cristina asked as she joined Meredith at the cafeteria table, munching on a slice of cucumber from her salad. "How is my future godchild?"

"Godchildren," Meredith replied, smiling as she waited for Cristina's reaction to the surprising turn of events.

Cristina didn't disappoint. Her fork was halfway to her mouth, and a piece of lettuce fell to the table as Cristina stared at her friend. "Did you say, 'God_children_'? As in more than one? Are you punking me? You better not be messing with me and trying to get all of us to buy you more baby gifts." She haphazardly waved her fork in the air as she spoke, long forgetting that it was in her hand.

Meredith ducked to keep from being stabbed in the eye and gently took the fork out of Cristina's hand. "I'm not messing with you. We're having twins: a boy and a girl. You ready for that, godmother?"

"Psh, yeah. I can handle anything. Oh my god, Mer. Two! I can't believe it! Good thing you have an extra godparent…though I don't know if Mark counts as a whole one. Wait, we're happy about this, right? You're not overwhelmed?"

"I'm overwhelmed, but I'm definitely happy. Plus, if I'm going to pop out two babies, might as well do them both at once."

"Have you thought of names, yet?"

"A bit. Right now, all we know for sure is that the girl's middle name will be Cristina."

Cristina paused. "Yeah?" A smile blossomed on her face. "I love you, Meredith Grey-Shepherd."

"I love you, too, Cristina Yang-Hunt."

They laughed at the absurdity of how fortuitous their lives had turned out to be. One married, and one soon-to-be-married. Who knew the dark and twisty sisters could end up so bright and shiny?

"What's so funny?" Alex asked, interrupting the giggle fest. He set down his tray and sat down across from them, immediately starting on his sandwich.

"Nothing… " they said in unison. Then promptly burst out into laughter again.

"Whatever. So, Yang, have you gone all bridezilla yet?"

Cristina scoffed. "No. But that reminds me… I'm supposed to officially invite you to the wedding. It's going to be at Owen's mom's place. And Meredith, you're the maid of honor."

"Me?" Meredith feigned surprised. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Well, she didn't really _ask. _She just told you," Alex said.

"Same thing." Cristina rolled her eyes.

"But really, how _is _the wedding planning going?" Meredith asked. "Is it making you think of you-know-who?" She purposely avoided saying the name so as to not upset her.

"Burke? I mean, of course I've thought about him once or twice, how the last wedding didn't exactly make me all too eager to walk down the aisle ever again. But… things are different. Owen's different. And this wedding will be different. It'll be _my _wedding."

"So, you're ready this time? No last-minute freak out? No sudden need to come into the OR and cut? No shaving of the eyebrows?"

"Yes. No. No. And hell no. Of course I'm ready. _I _proposed, didn't I?"

"How do you do it?" Alex asked quietly.

"Do what?"

"Get married after Burke left you at the altar? I mean… How do you know that you aren't just going to get your heart broken all over again?"

Cristina did a double take at Alex's sincerity. She shared a look with Meredith who just shrugged and remained silent. This wasn't his typical bluster; he wasn't intentionally trying to freak her out. He was genuinely interested in her answer. And what was more surprising, he wasn't shying away from talking about something serious. Lexie had mentioned that he was seeing Dr. Wyatt. It seemed as though therapy was paying off. Cristina hated to admit it, but the psychiatrist had the goods.

So, Cristina answered in kind. "Honestly? I don't know for sure. But I trust Owen, and I trust myself. And the rest just falls into place. I never thought I could ever trust or love someone else after Burke, but I did. I definitely wasn't looking for it, but things have an odd way of turning out okay."

Alex distractedly moved his food around on his plate. "I hope so."

* * *

Owen and Derek sat in Derek's office, tossing the tiny Nerf basketball between them.

"So will I be hearing from you or Yang about what I should wear to the wedding?" Derek asked. "The best man has to look good."

"Just wear a dark suit. I'm wearing my dress uniform, so you don't need to match anything," Owen replied, throwing the ball back.

"You sure you want to make that executive decision on your own, or do you want to check with Cristina first?"

Owen laughed, and nodded his head. "Maybe you're right. The wedding is supposed to be low-key, but I definitely don't want to make a rookie mistake and not run everything by the bride."

Mark opened the door, entered the room, and plopped himself into the chair next to Owen. "Gentlemen, what are we talking about, and more importantly, how does it affect me?"

"My suit for the wedding," Derek answered, tossing the ball towards Mark, who caught it one handed.

"Check out those reflexes," he bragged. "Your suit? Right. You should have picked me, Hunt." Owen opened his mouth to respond, but Mark put up his hand to stop him. "Don't worry about it. I'm not upset. I get the whole Shepherd/Grey symmetry thing you've got going with the best man/maid of honor. Plus, you don't want your best man looking better than you at your own wedding. Because I can wear the hell out of a suit."

"Well, I appreciate you not showing me up on my wedding day," Owen said. "Very thoughtful of you."

"Besides, someone needs to wait at the back of the church to tackle you in case you decide to pull a Burke and run off."

Owen sat up straighter in his chair and frowned. "That's one thing you don't have to worry about. I'm not going anywhere. Frankly, I don't know what kind of bastard would do that to a woman, although I guess I'm glad he did, since now she's marrying me." Owen became angry every time he thought of the pain Cristina suffered from Burke's actions, but he took a deep breath and let it go. Soon, she would be his wife, and her happiness would always be first in his thoughts. "Anyway," he continued, more mildly, "the wedding is at my mom's house, not a church, so there's no altar to run from."

"So who are you bringing?" Derek asked Mark, changing the subject after noting Owen's agitation.

"Torres."

"Right, I forgot that she and Robbins are over. It's good to have a back-up. And who knows? Between us being pregnant and Owen's wedding, the next thing we know, you and Torres could be announcing something," Derek joked.

It was Mark's turn to shift uncomfortably in his chair. "Yeah, maybe," he muttered noncommittally. Derek and Owen both stared at him a moment, noticing Mark's immediate nervousness.

"Are you announcing something?" Owen asked.

Mark looked between the two of them. He had to spill at some point.

"Torres and I are having a baby."

"What?" Owen and Derek exclaimed at the same time. "You mean she's given up women and gone back to you? And she's pregnant?" Derek asked.

"Yes. No. Sort of. And what do you mean, 'gone back to you'? Why is that so shocking? I'm a catch."

Owen and Derek looked at each other, and then back towards Mark.

"It's just," Owen started, floundering for words, "it's just that we didn't know you two were together. Again. And pregnant."

"We're not. Together, I mean. I mean, we are, but we aren't. And we aren't pregnant."

Derek and Owen looked again each other again, now completely confused. "Okay, we have no idea what you're talking about," Derek said, leaning back into his armchair.

Mark sighed. "So you know that I want to have a kid. I want to have a kid like yesterday. And Torres wants to have kids. So we decided to have a kid together. We're both adults. We're good people. We like each other. We'll be good parents. Great parents. So we're going to have a kid. Not like this afternoon, or anything," he finished, looking between the two of them. "But soon. We hope."

Owen and Derek both paused, temporarily flummoxed. Finally, Owen broke the silence.

"Okay. Well, then I suppose congratulations are in order," he said, sticking out his hand. Mark shook it and smiled.

"Thanks."

"Yes, congratulations," Derek repeated, offering his hand as well. "You will be a great dad. And you could do a lot worse than Callie Torres as the mother of your child."

"I know," Mark beamed.

Derek watched him. "Forgive me for being curious, but can I ask…are you going about this…how can I put this…the old fashioned way?"

"I'm so glad you asked that question and not me," Owen muttered under his breath.

"We haven't decided yet. It's not like we haven't…you know…like a million times—"

"Too much information," Owen mumbled.

"And she is one great lay. Like world class, let me tell you. This one time…"

"_Way_ too much information," Owen repeated, significantly more audibly.

"He asked," Mark said.

"I didn't ask about that," Derek answered.

"Do you want details or not?" Mark asked, exasperated.

Owen nodded his head no. "Not that kind of specific detail, I don't think."

"Well, then, not specifically, how about this? We haven't decided on the method of production yet. We just know what we want to get out of the partnership. Vague enough for you?"

"Well said. And congratulations again," Owen answered, giving Mark a squeeze on the shoulder.

"Thanks."

"Interesting," Derek said. "Meredith and I are pregnant. Sloan and Callie are working on it. That just leaves you and Yang. What do you say, Hunt? Are babies in the works anytime in the near future?"

_I hope so_, Owen thought to himself. _But I won't rush Cristina. I'm ready when she's ready. _

"How about you give us a chance to get married first, and then we'll worry about what comes next?" He laughed. "I'm sure the bride doesn't need that kind of pressure in addition to planning the wedding. Not to mention the groom, who needs to keep the bride happy. Let's take the godfather thing for a spin first, and then I'll let you know."

"Co-godfathers," Mark chimed in.

"Co-godfathers," Owen corrected.

"Agreed," Derek answered. "Meredith and I will have the practice babies. You two can learn from the experts."

"And now, changing the subject to something much less adult and much more fun, I know something else we can all agree upon," Mark started. "I've got the perfect bachelor party plan: Vegas! What more could we want? Drinks, gambling, gaudy casinos, strippers, stripper poles…"

"No!" Owen and Derek replied in unison.

"Come on. Hunt, don't you miss being in the desert? Las Vegas is just like Iraq. Only with less bombs and more air conditioning. And tequila. Put on your big boy pants and let loose."

"There's plenty of tequila at Joe's. The wedding is going to be low-key and so is the bachelor party, so don't even think about it, Sloan. Not a thought. Not a stripper in the vicinity."

Mark frowned. "Really? Seriously?"

"Yes. I mean it. Don't even begin to get any ideas."

"How are you two my best friends? You're both so boring."

"Responsible," Derek replied. "We're responsible. As should you be, future Papa Sloan."

"Fine. Joe's it is. But I'm getting you drunk, Hunt." He pointed at Derek. "You, too. You're such lightweights anyway that it won't take much."

"All I want is a mellow evening with my friends," Owen said. "Some dinner, drinks, darts, a game on the big screen, maybe even a little karaoke if we drink enough. And because it is my bachelor party, Sloan, and because you are not my best man, I will allow you to get me drunk. Knock yourself out."

"At least that's settled," Mark grumbled.

"Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't have anything sketchy up his sleeve," Owen said to Derek, gesturing towards Mark.

"Done. It'll give me some good parenting practice," Derek grinned.

"Shut up," Mark answered.

* * *

"I hope you all realize how lame this is," Callie said, emphatically circling her hand with her shot glass of tequila.

"It's Joe's," Cristina said, shrugging her shoulders. "Where else would I go? Where else would _he_ go?"

"But seriously, an essentially joint bachelor-bachelorette party? Where is the fun in that?" Callie persisted, before downing her shot.

"I get plenty fun at home." Cristina said, cocking her head to the side with attitude. It was getting clearer by the second that Cristina had had way too much to drink. Meredith rolled her eyes and laughed. "Who's next for 'drunk or kid'?"

"What is that?" Bailey said, coming up behind Cristina, patting her on the shoulder lightly.

"Somebody tells a story about something that either happened when they were a kid or when they were drunk, and you have to guess which it is," Lexie explained. "And it's my turn, I think."

"I'm going to the bathroom," Meredith said, sliding slowly off of her stool. "Who needs? I can grab it on the way back."

"Two more of these," Callie said, motioning to her empty shot glass.

"I'll have…um…" Cristina slurred, staring at her glass with great concentration.

"I don't think there's any vodka _left_, Cristina." Lexie said, slowly sipping on her colorful, fruity drink.

"I'll get mine, Grey," Bailey said, walking with her as they left for the bathroom. Cristina was intently starting at the back of Owen's head and trying to sip the remnants of her now empty glass.

"What are you—" Lexie started, turning to follow Cristina's gaze. Callie turned, too, and smirked.

"Owen and Mark could make quite the couple…" Owen was shaking with laughter, and Mark was singing badly while trying desperately to get Owen to join him. "Having second thoughts?" Callie grinned devilishly.

"No." Cristina said, shrugging carelessly. "We love each other. You know how things are just right sometimes? This is that. It's just—" Cristina hiccupped, "—right." Callie nodded and Lexie surreptitiously wiped a tear from her cheek.

On the other end of the bar, Derek and Alex were playing a round of darts while Jackson had just left to get the next round.

"Hey, Hunt. Do you know the difference between peanut butter and jam?" Mark asked, his face already red with laughter. Owen only shook his head vigorously waiting for him to continue.

"You can't peanut butter your—" Mark started, but he stopped as soon as he saw the lime green sweater of Dr. Webber. "Chief," he acknowledged, awkwardly.

"I'm not Dr. Webber tonight, I'm Richard. Congratulations, Hunt!" Dr. Webber clapped his hand loudly on Owen's back, knocking over a half empty beer in the process.

"What was that about peanut butter, Sloan?" Dr. Webber continued, unfazed by the awkwardness. Mark puffed out his cheeks and looked away for a moment, looking for an out.

"How about we check the score on the game, Richard?" Mark said, throwing his arm around Dr. Webber and dragging him towards the television. "I bet you fifty bucks the Yankees are winning…"

As the two of them wandered off, Owen was left at the table alone with his drink. He was about to give into his desire to crash the bachelorette party to talk to Cristina when Bailey came and sat across from him.

"Oh, the girls are over th—"

"I know. I don't need you to say anything; I just need you to listen. Yang is one of mine. She's one of my babies. As much as I fought against it, those five interns became my babies. Some terrible things have happened to _all_ of them. I've seen them so broken that I thought they might not get back up, and some of them didn't. But Yang did. Now, I know you've had your problems and that they aren't your fault, but I just need to make sure that you'll always be looking out for her. She's a good person. She's shoves it down—deep, deep, deep down…but she cares about people. She cares about you, and so I'm asking you to please be good to her."

Owen simply looked back at her. Part of him was annoyed that she even felt the need to give him this speech, but another part of him appreciated that she felt the need to make sure Cristina was okay. He simply nodded and raised his glass to take another sip, but before he could pull the glass towards his face, he heard it clink with another glass. Bailey had raised her own glass to meet his.

"Congratulations on the wedding," she said with a wide smile. And with that, she turned to rejoin the rest of the women.

* * *

Cristina stood in front of the full-length mirror gazing at her own reflection. _I've become such a girl_, she thought. But she had to admit, she liked what she saw. The lavender wedding dress had proved to be an inspired choice. The color, the fit – it all worked perfectly, resulting in classic, simple elegance. Cristina's hair was pulled up simply – the better to show off the back of her neck – and soft curls framed her face. Her only jewelry was her engagement ring and a pair of diamond stud earrings – a gift from Saul.

Turning sideways, Cristina realized that the bodice was a bit tighter than she remembered. Her breasts seemed fuller, too, somehow, but the thought was lost as Helen entered the room with a flourish. She strode over to where Cristina was standing and assessed her in one swift glance. She nodded her approval, straightening the back of Cristina's skirt at the same time.

"People have started to arrive," she said. "Just a few more minutes."

"So, do I pass inspection?" Cristina asked.

"You look stunning," Helen answered truthfully. "Radiant, really. A beautiful bride."

She was overcome for a moment, seeing her daughter so happy. Helen's eyes filled with tears.

"Mom…"

"I'm all right. I'm just proud of you. I have always been proud of you, Cristina."

Cristina met her mother's gaze and found her own voice catching a bit as she spoke, "Thanks, mom."

"Owen's a good man. He loves you. And you love him. Today's a good day."

"It is," Cristina agreed. "Although we'd be hard-pressed to have a worse wedding than the last one!"

They laughed in spite of themselves as Helen cupped Cristina's face in her hands, shaking her head. "My beautiful girl…they broke the mold when they made you."

There was knocking at the door. Meredith poked her head inside the room and asked, "Can I come in?" They nodded. "Helen, we're about to get started, I think. Do you want to head downstairs? I think Saul is looking for you."

"I'd better go find him, then," she sighed. Giving Cristina a last look, she said, "Your nose is shiny. Have Meredith help you with some powder. You don't want to get your dress dirty. I'll see you downstairs." She gave Cristina's hand a little squeeze and then left the room.

"Wow," Meredith marveled. "Did you just have a nice moment with your mother?"

"I think I did…crazy, right? Help me, will you?"

"Not so crazy," Meredith said, carefully putting the barest trace of powder on Cristina's nose. "It's your wedding day, and you're really getting married this time."

"I am. It's fine, Mer. No worries, okay? Owen and I are good together. We're happy. I'm happy. I want this. I want this a lot."

"Okay…let's do it," Meredith turned to leave the room. "Are you coming?"

"You go on…I'll be right down," Cristina said.

Glancing in the mirror one last time, Cristina was struck by the woman she saw looking back at her. She, Cristina Yang, was a bride. But she was also still very much herself. And she was getting married to the man she loved. Picking up a small bouquet of wildflowers, she opened the bedroom door.

* * *

Cristina rested her head on her dance partner's shoulder and sighed a happy sigh. A warm breeze played with the errant curls that had fallen from her simple updo.

"Are you happy, Cristina?" Saul asked his step-daughter.

"I am." She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "I really am."

"Good. Because I could take him on if I have to. He's not the only one good with a scalpel."

Cristina laughed. "Just stick to surgery. No stabbing sons-in-law." In the corner of her eye, she spied Owen dancing with his mother – and probably having a similar conversation without the scalpel-stabbing. Though, she couldn't envision Mrs. Hunt wielding anything menacing. Sarah seemed more like the stuffing to death type. Or hugging to death.

"Still wish I could take a scalpel to that other one."

"Now _him_ you _can_ stab," she joked. Honestly, she no longer cared for revenge. She had Owen. What was the point of harboring ill-will for a man who broke her heart only for it to be made whole again by another, better man?

Hearing the familiar tones of Cristina's voice, Owen looked up to see her laughing with Saul as they slow danced. _My wife_, he thought to himself with a smile. And because he couldn't help himself, he chuckled, still in shock that she had really agreed to become his wife – that this was not all a dream that he would wake up from tomorrow.

"What's so funny?" Sarah asked.

"Nothing, mom. I'm just happy, that's all." He gave her cheek a quick kiss.

"She's good for you. I knew that the moment you brought her to me."

"Yes, mom, we've already established that you were right," he said, humoring his mother.

The last notes of the ballad echoed into the night. After a moment, Steve stepped up to the microphone and said, "Will all the couples now join the bride and groom for a dance?"

Owen walked his mother to a nearby table before coming back to the makeshift dance floor to meet Cristina.

"Hey there, now," Cristina said when he took her hand.

Owen pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. "Hi. I missed you."

"You're adorable when you're cheesy. It was just three or four minutes. Three or four minutes out of a lifetime."

"Yeah, but I don't want to miss a single minute." He kissed her on the lips – a chaste one. He was saving the ravishing for their wedding night, when they were away from all the peering eyes.

Cristina looked at this man who had stood there waiting for her at the altar not two hours ago with a look full of promise, love, and hope. Who had given her all the words she longed to hear from the man she loved. Who had then forever bound himself to her in the eyes of the law and whoever was up there pulling the strings.

…_I, Cristina Yang, take thee…_

…_take thee, Cristina Yang, to be my lawful wedded wife…_

…_to have and to hold…_

…_so long as we both shall live..._

"Have I told you how thankful I am that you pulled out my icicle?"

"It was my pleasure. Have I told you how thankful I am that you stole patients from Mercy West?"

"Any time," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Owen chuckled deep in his throat and captured her lips once again.

Elsewhere on the dance floor, the maid of honor and best man swayed to the music. "See? You can stop worrying now. The groom stayed where he was. The bride made it down the aisle. And love is in the air."

Meredith swatted him on the arm. "I'm not worried."

"Liar."

"I am carrying your children. You aren't allowed to call me a 'liar.' Check the rule book: carrying these babies means that from this point on, I am always right."

"Yes, dear," Derek replied, too content to argue.

"Did you ever think we'd make it here?"

"To Cristina's wedding? No."

"No, I mean, all of us. Cristina marrying Owen, you and me being pregnant, Mark and Callie planning to be parents…" She looked around at all these people whom she had come to know and care about.

Richard was dancing with Adele, Mark with Callie, Jackson with Lexie, Bailey with Ben – and in the center were Cristina and Owen. Meredith's "person" was glowing, erasing any doubts Meredith may have had about this marriage.

Sitting at the tables, Alex was talking to one of the female guests that Meredith couldn't recognize from the back of her head. But it didn't matter. Alex was smiling – something that had become a rare event ever since Izzie left and he'd broken things off with Lexie. At the next table, Teddy and Arizona were giggling – obviously drunk off the numerous glasses of champagne they'd consumed. Out of the single, available members that were there, their pickings were quite slim. And so, their inebriated discussion wandered from how men were pigs to the dangerous topic of whether or not Teddy had ever kissed a girl. Meanwhile, April stood close to the stage, seemingly having found a new target for her affections judging by the look of fangirl adoration on her face: Pierce, past intern and current morgue employee.

For better or for worse, Derek was right: love was really in the air. But more importantly, for the first time since the tragic shooting, there was joy.

* * *

"I can't believe you made your former interns clean up for my mom," Owen smiled, as they walked towards their apartment, holding hands.

"Some people will do anything to scrub in with me," she shrugged with a smile, reaching into her purse. "And Steve is really handy with a retractor."

"Allow me." Owen pulled out his keys, and unlocked the door. Then he opened the door, bent over, and scooped Cristina up.

"Déjà vu," she chuckled, slinging her arms around his neck as he carried her into their apartment and kicked the door shut behind them. Owen easily carried her past the packed suitcases waiting for their trip to Paris in the morning and headed straight to their bedroom. He gently laid her down on the bed. She reached up and pulled his face down for a kiss.

"Hello Mr. Me," she murmured against his face.

"Hello Mrs. Me," he grinned, pulling off his jacket and then lying down beside her. His left hand reached over and lifted up her left hand. He held their hands up so they could see the rings on their hands.

"I am so glad I stole that ambulance," Cristina laughed, leaning her head against Owen's shoulder and kicking off her shoes.

"Me too," he smiled. "Look at us now, lying here as husband and wife…"

"With rings to prove it," she said, squeezing his hand. "I was never a person to wear rings, but I like the ones you gave me."

"And I'll wear your ring with pride," Owen said softly. "I'm honored that you'll have me as your husband."

She smiled.

"I wish our fathers had been there," Owen continued. "My father would have liked you. He always liked a woman with 'fire in her eyes.'"

"And my dad would have liked you," Cristina said simply. Her right hand moved to her stomach, rustling the soft fabric of her wedding dress. "He would have been a wonderful grandfather."

"Mine too," Owen replied.

Cristina swallowed. "You know, I've been feeling…some different things, lately."

"Me too," Owen sighed. "Good things."

"I – I meant physical symptoms," she said quietly. "Like…sensitivity to certain smells. That backache I had. And my breasts are a bit bigger."

Owen looked sideways at Cristina.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Cristina asked.

"I don't think it's ever wise to say that a woman's body parts are bigger," he said. "You're not fat."

"That's not what I am thinking," she laughed.

"In that case, I did think your breasts are more luscious than ever," Owen said, bending over to nuzzle her cleavage. "I just thought you got a new bra for the wedding."

"I'm wondering if I'm pregnant," Cristina blurted out.

Owen paused, his nose buried in Cristina's bra. His warm breath and his beard tickled her skin. Slowly, he raised his head to stare at her, his heart pounding.

"There could be many reasons for my symptoms," she mused. "Nausea – a virus or bacteria. Backache – doing lots of lifting helping your mom get the house ready for the wedding. A little fatigue – it's hard work being a surgeon and planning for a wedding. The breasts – PMS. And I am wearing a new bra."

"How – how do you feel about this?" Owen asked softly. "About maybe being pregnant."

"I'm okay," she said. "If I am, I can handle it. And if I'm not, well, it's not like we can't have fun trying to have one, whenever we want."

Owen felt his eyes grow curiously moist. "Really?"

"Really," Cristina assured him. "Look … Meredith's pregnancy has given me a bit of baby fever, okay? And since I have just one fallopian tube, it's not like it would be easy for me to get pregnant. If I am pregnant, then I will accept what fate has handed us. I'm not as scared by motherhood as I once was."

"It will be okay, either way," Owen said, changing his position so he could kiss her. "I mean it. If you are pregnant, great. If you're not, then we can wait."

She smiled as he kissed her, fervently. Her hands reached up and caressed his face. "Would you like to find out now?" Cristina asked him softly, when they broke for air.

"You have a test?"

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, kissing him again. "I made Megan go buy me one, with the promise that you're going to let her scrub in on a nice juicy surgery when we get back from Paris."

"Of course you did," he snorted. "Yes, I would like to know now. Definitely."

"Okay." Cristina sat up and rolled off of the bed. She dug the small box out of her purse and headed into the bathroom, Owen right behind her.

"Isn't this romantic?" Cristina snorted, lifting up her dress. "My husband is watching me pee on our wedding night."

Owen grinned boyishly. "I did have something sexier in mind…"

"Hold that thought!"

They came out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to make out while we wait?" Cristina asked Owen. He laughed and put his arms around her.

She leaned her face against his and sighed, her hands grasping his arms, as he held her close. And they waited.

_It's impossible to know if fate really exists. History's greatest minds have been divided on whether we're slaves to fate or masters of our destiny. Is it more comforting to know that there's a plan for you or to know that you alone control your life? Do we have free will or does it just seem that way? No one knows. So instead of wondering what lies ahead for us, maybe we should just be grateful – grateful for a soul mate, or a best friend, or a baby on the way. Maybe it doesn't matter what happens in life so much as who is taking the ride with us._


End file.
